


Unexpected

by Cantanatova



Series: Unexpected Series [1]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: 1965 tv show, F/M, International Rescue, Mysterious Stranger - Freeform, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 62,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantanatova/pseuds/Cantanatova
Summary: I’ve had this story up on FanFiction for a while, but I thought it was time to branch out into the AO3 community. I hope you enjoy it.
Series: Unexpected Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875142
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. Everything Starts Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this story up on FanFiction for a while, but I thought it was time to branch out into the AO3 community. I hope you enjoy it.

The flames were slowly dying down as International Rescue's impressive fire truck went to work. There were fewer explosions now and many buildings no longer glowed red, but instead long tendrils of dark smoke emitted from them that had turned the morning sky as dark as dusk. The chemical factory had been ablaze since the small hours and had been completely out of control when International Rescue had been called to help out the local fire crews that had been working fruitlessly on the ground, unable to contain the leaping flames with their inferior equipment. International Rescue's intervention was seemingly just in time as set away from the rest of the factory to the west was a huge warehouse that contained barrels and barrels of a highly explosive fuel compound. The fire containment and prevention system in place for the explosives shed, and the whole factory generally, was woefully inadequate – probably due to the owner trying to maximise profit through penny pinching over a number of years. Luckily, the fire hadn't reached the volatile warehouse yet and it now looked as though it wouldn't have an opportunity to.

Not that International Rescue had much to do with that piece of luck, the wind was in their favour tonight and the fire had started in the furthest corner of the site. When Scott Tracy had arrived at the scene an exhausted fire officer had informed him that should this warehouse catch on fire, it would be a disaster beyond anything experienced in recent years. In short, since before International Rescue had been working precisely to stop this type of disaster occurring.

As Scott watched the flames dying further, he saw the fire truck backing away from the smouldering ruins that once had been a state of the art synthesis plant. Millions of dollars' worth of damage must have been done by this one fire and earlier he'd seen the managing director and principle shareholder of ChemDeli being taken away to recover, as he had come to witness the destruction of his company. Now he saw his middle brother Virgil coming out the fire truck in his heat proof suit to talk to the chief fire officer at the scene. The grey overalls and large mask were a far cry from the crisp blue suits the Thunderbird pilots usually wore on duty, and that he himself was wearing, but those were hopelessly inadequate for withstanding the heat of the flames when approaching as close as Virgil had just been.

The fire truck was now approaching mobile control where Scott stood waiting, with the high tech machinery he used to coordinate the rescue activities. As Virgil got closer Scott could see that the fire had taken its toll – both his brother and the fire truck were blackened by the smoke, and there were some large dents that hadn't been present before they'd left Tracy Island earlier that day. Looking over at his fourth brother Gordon who was driving the Firefly vehicle to backup Virgil's work, he could see they were in a similar state.

"Brains isn't going to be happy you've messed up his toys," he commented, referring to Tracy Island's resident engineer and genius who designed all the machines the brothers used in their call of duty. Virgil smiled wearily, taking off the large mask that had been protecting his face.

"I'll clean it down later, he'll never know."

Scott smiled at his younger brother in response, before joking 'Get Alan to do it – as he keeps complaining he is left out of the action." He then gestured to the Firefly that was slowly making its way back to Thunderbird 2, parked a long way from the fire and well out of harm's reach. "I'm guessing this means you're finishing up?"

Virgil nodded in reply, "The local crews can take it from here. You want help packing up mobile control?"

"No, you've done enough today. Head back home and get some rest – I'll be on my way soon enough."

Virgil smiled, and climbed back into the fire truck before driving off towards Thunderbird 2. Scott watched him as he drove into the pod, and then as the large green aircraft settled back around the pod like a bird sitting on eggs. With a roar, the craft's thrusters jumped into life, and the giant cargo carrier took off, spinning onto the correct bearing before heading home. Next to where it had been, his sleek silver Thunderbird 1 was waiting for him to load up and follow.

Looking from it to the mobile control station he was stood by, he sighed. He couldn't have accepted Virgil's help in packing up given how tired his brother had been, but it was going to be arduous packing up the unit. He couldn't help the wry smile flit across his face as he thought how inaccurately named mobile control was. With all the technological advances Brains had made, you'd have thought it would be a bit more lightweight but with everything built to an incredibly robust specification, as well as able to serve about a million different functions, it was about as mobile as a small elephant.

Before he started to pack it all away, he put in a call to the headquarters. "Hello Scott," his father Jeff replied when his face swam into view on Scott's monitor. "Is the fire under control?"

"Yes father, the local crews have taken over," Scott replied. "Virgil and Gordon are on their way home, you should hear from them with an ETA shortly. I'll just pack up and head back myself."

"That's great Scott, good job today. Let me know an ETA when you're airborne."

"FAB father," Scott replied, and signed off. He began packing the unit, and slowly wheeled the first half back towards Thunderbird 1. He put the boxes on the ground beside the craft, and went for the rest of the control centre. This time, as he returned he thought he heard a noise, a faint rustling that he could distinguish even over the sounds of the continuing fire. Putting down his cargo he looked around for its source. Out the corner of his eye he saw a shape flitting, and spun around to look for it. "Who's there?"

No reply came back to him so he flipped a torch out of his utility belt, and as he shone it around in the unnatural darkness caused by the fire he saw the disappearing haunches of a deer vanish into the undergrowth.

"Scott Tracy, get a grip," he muttered to himself, and turned back to start loading the packages onto Thunderbird 1. He was nearly finished when he heard the same rustling noise as before. This time he was more thorough in his sweep, walking all around his machine with the torch penetrating the gloom in front of him. Still finding nothing, he shook his head at his own paranoia before turning back to load the remaining boxes onto Thunderbird 1. The only problem was that his access was blocked by someone leaning against the craft.

The figure was lean and very feminine, reclined against the side of his machine as though it was a wall. She was inspecting her nails, not looking up at Scott despite the fact she must have known he was there.

"Who are you?" Not the most eloquent start, but Scott blurted out the first thing in his head. His mind was torn between very inappropriately checking out the figure of the person stood in front of him, and outrage that she crept up on him and was now standing between him and his machine.

"Such an unusual fire," the character said quietly, still not looking up from her nails. Getting closer, Scott could see that she was wearing a mask that covered the top half of her face, only her mouth and jaw showing from underneath. She was dressed head to foot in a skin tight, dark coloured suit, and the thought flashed across his mind that she resembled a character from a comic strip such as the ones Alan and Gordon used to read, instead of a real person. She spoke diffidently as if commenting on the weather, with none of the admiration that most expressed when coming up close to a Thunderbird machine. "How lucky that it started such a long way from the fuel depot."

What concerned him most was that she had voiced some of the thoughts running through his mind as they had fought to bring the blaze under control.

"What do you want?" He commanded, pulling himself together and using his most assertive incident commander voice.

"I have no quarrels with International Rescue." The stranger now, finally, brought her gaze to meet Scott's and despite the darkness of the unnatural dawn he found himself arrested by her eyes. "It seems like a perfect opportunity to distract you, to enable cameras to be placed inside your machines."

Scott frowned at her, any spell he was under broken. "Are you trying to steal our technology?"

"I'd be a pretty poor thief if I gave myself away by talking to you. Only morons actually disclose their plans to their victims. And I'm not a poor thief, I'm the best there is. So consider this a...friendly warning, if you must. It wouldn't hurt to do a check when you get back to inspect the machines for interference would it? As I already said, I have nothing against you or your organisation." Her accent was British, Scott could recognise that much, but not the clipped English tones he was familiar with through their long-standing association with Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, International Rescue's London intelligence agent. Nor was it a rough, almost vulgar tone like her reformed butler, Parker. The stranger's voice was softer, with a slight lilt to her accent that he couldn't place.

"Were you involved in the fire?"

She looked away then, gazing at the still smouldering buildings that would cost ChemDeli billions to replace. "ChemDeli has an interesting history. Several years ago they were implicated when a batch of industrial chemical waste was deposited in a river in India, a river used by many local families as their only water source. Funnily enough, they were never prosecuted."

"Then there must be another explanation. If they were responsible then the law would have penalised them."

"Do you think?" The stranger started drumming her fingernails against the side of Thunderbird 1. Except... looking closer Scott could see that protruding from the gloves she was wearing there were sharp points, almost like claws. He could also see that they were damaging the paintwork of his beloved Thunderbird, and he was just drawing in breath to scold when she stopped, and began walking away. Scott watched her go, his mind reeling.

"Hey!" he called, starting after her, and when she didn't respond he called out the first thing he could think of. "Excuse me! Thief lady!" Seeing her turn to look at him, he asked hurriedly "What happened to the families?"

She paused and half turned to him, her profile illuminated by the low morning sun that was slowly beginning to filter through the dense smoke cloud. "Thief lady? That's the best you can come up with? Most of my associates know me as Cat. I like you Thunderbird, I'll see you again." She resumed walking away, then said softly over her shoulder so that he could barely hear her, "They went blind. Whole communities of people went blind and starved." A cloud of dust and ash was kicked up by an eddy of wind, causing Scott to cover his eyes and cough slightly. When he could see again, she was gone.

Scott stood for a moment, processing all that had just happened. He was jolted from his reverie by the sound of his intercom beeping loudly inside Thunderbird 1. He scrambled inside his machine, wincing at the scratches in the paintwork by the door. Finally able to answer it, he found it was his father looking concerned. "Are you alright Scott? I expected to hear from you by now. There's nothing wrong, is there?"

Scott was about to explain about the stranger, but as it was at the tip of his tongue he hesitated. Perhaps it was because the encounter he had just had didn't seem...real, somehow, or perhaps it was related to the embarrassing effect she'd had on him that honestly had no place on any mission. Whatever the reason, for one of the first times in his life Scott lied to his father. ""No father, I just had some trouble packing up mobile control. I'm on my way home now. ETA is 14:00 hours your time."

"FAB Scott," his father replied, and signed out. Scott strapped in and launched Thunderbird 1, setting the course for Tracy Island. He then sat back and spent the whole journey wondering what on Earth he had done, fervently hoping that this wasn't the start of something he wouldn't be able to control.


	2. Reflection

As Scott approached the International Rescue base on the remote Tracy Island, isolated in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and the perfect hideaway for the organisation, he could see Thunderbird 2 ahead of him preparing to land. His silver 'bird flew so fast that despite the difference in departure times he'd manage to catch up, the downside being that he now had to wait while Virgil manoeuvred the green giant onto the Island's runway. Eventually his radio beeped into life to give him permission to land, and he swung the engaged vertical mode before attempting the difficult entry through the pool hatch.

The flight had not been long enough for him to clear his head, and he was now more confused than ever as he changed out of his uniform once Thunderbird 1 was safely deposited in its bay beneath the main house. For once, instead of taking the usual exit along the gantry, he called Brains to bring the elevator car and instead was lowered down into the silo.

"Is a-anything the matter, Scott?" Brains asked, as Scott joined him at the base of the silver craft, looking up at her towering above.

"I was concerned about some damage that she may have taken," Scott replied tenderly patting his machine, removing his hand rather more quickly than intended when he realised the thrusters were still very hot.

"I t-thought that you had parked a long way from the blaze?" Brains asked, concerned as he always was when there was a suggestion of damage to his creations. Despite understanding that the point of the machines he sent out was to get damaged so that people didn't, he still tended to be a little fraught when they came back covered in dirt and full of holes. Still, Scott suspected that he was secretly thrilled with the idea of spending more time with his creations while he fixed them up.

"I know Brains, but I found some scratches by the cockpit door, and thought a once over wouldn't do her any harm. It's been a while since I last gave her a check-up." Scott didn't mention that the scratches at the cockpit door weren't made by the fire, or that he was using a damage inspection as an excuse to see if there was any truth in her assertions about hidden cameras. He also wanted to check the state of the camera detector – normally so reliable, which made him doubt the credibility of her claims. But while he hoped that its lack of action meant that she had been lying to him, he wouldn't feel secure until he had made sure of it himself.

"V-very well," Brains replied. "But you'll have to start by yourself – Virgil tells me the Firefly and fire truck are in a b-bit of a mess."

"Of course Brains, and you have to look after them first. I'll just go and get something to eat, and then I'll come back down and get started."

"FAB Scott," and Brains moved back into the Thunderbird 2 warehouse. Scott grinned when he thought of the look on Brains face when he saw how dented and dirty his beloved machines were. He looked up at his 'bird, and was relieved to see that it looked in pretty good condition, despite a few wear and tear issues creeping in. 'A once-over wouldn't do you any harm though, would it?' he murmured, running his hand along the now cooler thrusters. Before he started though, he had to make his report about the mission to his father. He walked through the silo and took the lift to the large communal area that was the hub of the Tracy household, and the base for International Rescue's operation.

Jeff Tracy was a tall, stern looking man who (other than the fact that he had turned a distinguished grey) greatly resembled his eldest son both in looks and temperament. He ran International Rescue from a large desk, facing portraits of all five Tracy sons in uniform that doubled up as their means of communication with base when they were on missions. He was alone in the room writing at the desk, and as Scott entered he looked up with a slightly worried frown. "Is anything wrong, son? I was expecting you up here before now and you were delayed when leaving the scene as well."

"No dad, I'm fine – I just wanted to check over Thunderbird 1 as I think she may have taken some damage over the last couple of rescues. I'll go over her later anyway, she's due a bit of maintenance."

"Very good Scott, I don't anticipate much else happening today, but keep alert anyway. Now, what was happening out there?"

Scott briefed his father on the events at the chemical plant, from arrival to the successful completion of the mission. It was a routine that occurred after every callout, and Scott had only ever missed it when confined to the hospital ward for one reason or another. This time he omitted to mention the events after Thunderbird 2 had left, and instead concentrated on the work containing the fire.

"You seem to have been very lucky there today, son," his father commented once his report was complete. "It sounds like if the conditions had been different, or if the fire had started in a different part of the plant, then there may have been a whole different report today. A disastrous explosion could have occurred, not to mention the environmental repercussions of releasing that chemical into the atmosphere. Excellent work preventing that disaster from happening. According to Brains, that particular fuel exploding would have had rained toxic chemicals across a large area and caused a devastating effect on the local ecosystem."

Scott verbally agreed with his father but then slipped into silence as he considered further. Was it really luck that had saved the main chemical store from the fire? Or had it been planned that way by the mysterious woman, the self-professed thief? She had hinted that she may have been responsible for setting the fire, but that the reasoning was due to the company's less than responsible historical activities regarding chemical waste. To Scott it appeared that the fire had been calculated to do maximum damage to the expensive laboratory facilities whilst minimising risk of reaching the explosives warehouse.

His thoughts were interrupted by Virgil and Gordon returning from Thunderbird 2. "Hi dad," Virgil greeted warmly, and then looked around. "Where are Alan and Tin-Tin?"

"Down on the beach, snorkelling I think," his father replied. "When they heard that you were on your way back, they headed out to make the most of the afternoon."

"Not a bad plan," Virgil agreed, and then grimaced. "But I think we're going to have to help Brains clean up the machines. He's not very happy about the state they're in."

"It's not our fault," Gordon added grumpily. Jeff looked at his son, and smiled slightly. He knew Gordon wouldn't be happy working in the garage while Alan and Tin-Tin were out swimming.

"Why don't you take the afternoon off boys? You've done enough for one day, and the trucks will wait until tomorrow."

"Thanks dad!" Gordon grinned, and then turned to Virgil. "Fancy going for a swim?"

Virgil considered for a bit, "Why not? Would be good to loosen up a bit after this morning. We'll let Brains know we'll sort the trucks later – and get Alan to help us too! He's not due back on 5 for a couple of weeks." The brothers left the room together, leaving Scott with his father again.

"I'll head back down to the garage for a bit," Jeff said, turning towards the door.

"I have a few things I need to discuss with Brains about his suggested updates to Thunderbird 5's communication relays. You aren't going to take the afternoon off too?"

"It's fine dad," Scott replied smiling. "It won't take me long to check over '1, and I'd rather get it over with."

His father let him go without further argument, knowing that Scott would not be able to relax properly until he'd checked over the aircraft from top to bottom. Of all his sons, Scott was the most diligent, partly due to his position as the responsible older brother and partly caused by his extensive air force training. Jeff just wished that occasionally Scott would relax a little and enjoy life more – as Jeff himself was told all too often no-one could work constantly.

Caught up in his work, the time flew by for Scott. He started by polishing out the scratches, feeling rather unfriendly by the time he had touched up to make sure there was no trace of the marks. He then proceeded to check all systems, starting in the cockpit and moving around the control panels before checking all the external sensors. It was late afternoon and he had nearly finished checking his Thunderbird when something unusual caught his attention. Attached to the craft near the landing support on the nose was a small box, no bigger than a matchbox, with no obvious identifying markings. It had been tucked away behind an existing sensor, and if he hadn't been so thorough it could easily have been missed.

"Brains!" he called the engineer on the intercom, who was currently ensconced in one of his laboratories, "I think you need to come and look at this."

"Is there anything wrong, Scott?"

"There's something attached to '1 here – I've not seen it before. I need you to come and see if it's one of yours."

Brains came into the hanger and used the spare elevator to travel up to where Scott was leaning across to look more closely at what he had found. The scientist looked at the small innocuous-looking box and frowned. "I-I'm not sure, Scott. It looks like a data receiver to me, but I've never seen one like it before." He leant forwards and prised the box off of Thunderbird 1, but then PHUT, the box cracked open into two pieces and smoke came trailing out of it. Brains dropped it in surprise, and both he and Scott jumped backwards. Luckily the elevator had a good support structure and the box landed between them.

"What was that?!" Scott exclaimed, barely avoiding swearwords.

Brains leaned forwards and prodded the small box with a pair of tweezers. "I – I think it is a camera of some type. Yes, I'm sure that's right. It's a miniature camera, and must have contained a self-destructive setting if it was interfered with." He picked it up gingerly using the tweezers, and lowered the elevator.

Scott stared at it. The thief had been telling the truth! His mind reeling, he wasn't paying attention to what Brains was saying, until he heard his name.

"I say S-Scott, do you think there might be something on Thunderbird 2 as well?"

"Can't hurt to check, Brains. I'd better go tell dad."

To say that Jeff Tracy did not take the news well would be an understatement. The idea that someone may have set a fire deliberately and endangered human life just to try to photograph the Thunderbird machines filled him with horror, even more so when he considered the damage that could have been done to the environment if his boys hadn't helped control the blaze. That, and the fact that the only reason that the camera had been found at all was because Scott had decided to check Thunderbird 1 for damage as it hadn't triggered any of the sensors. A second camera had been found on Thunderbird 2 after a thorough search by Brains and the boys, who had been called back from the ocean to help. Brains managed to remove this second camera without it detonating, and was busy taking it apart to find out more about it. The boys had returned to the lounge and were talking to their father about how the camera was placed in the first place, and why they hadn't found them earlier.

"It must have been put there on this last mission," Virgil stated. "I touched up Thunderbird 2 last week after the damage the rocks did when we were down in Peru on that rescue. I would have seen it then if it had been placed there earlier."

"Well that's some relief," Jeff replied, "As it's unlikely the devices could have sent any information back already. Brains tells me that they just store information, and would need to be retrieved at a later date."

"But that means that someone will set up a disaster again, so that they can collect the boxes!" Gordon cried, and the Tracy's looked at each other sombrely. Scott rubbed his forehead tiredly as he considered the implications, still covered in his overalls and grease. He thought he may be able to get more information out of the thief – Cat – assuming that she turned up whenever there was an opportunity to collect the cameras. Otherwise, he didn't think he would have any chance of finding her if her earlier disappearing trick was anything to go by.

The family fell silent for a while as they each thought about the developments that day. The possibility that someone was willing to cause large scale emergencies was very concerning, as they were lucky that the chemical plant fire hadn't caused any injuries or worse.

"What I don't understand is why our camera detectors didn't find out about it," Alan said, confused. "We know they work, and they can't both be faulty."

"I-I think I can answer that," came a voice from the doorway, and they turned to see Brains stood there, holding the second camera. "Normally our camera detectors only go off if there is a camera working in the vicinity. T-these had yet to be activated, so it is unlikely to have triggered the d-detector."

"They must have wanted shots of the base," Jeff reasoned. "Otherwise they would have activated them already." He sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. "Well boys, you'll have to be extra vigilant when out on missions, but there's no more reason to worry about it tonight. You've had a long day, go to bed. We can talk about it more in the morning."

"Yes father," the sons chimed in unison, and slowly filtered out to their quarters. Scott sat heavily on his bed once he was alone and showered, events racing through his head. Absent-mindedly he opened up his small computer, a hand held device that was connected to the information cloud.

"Find me details about ChemDeli, and chemical waste disposal." The device flickered into life, and several news articles blinked at him. Picking the first one, he read through it. An industrial accident leaking waste containing a chemical he couldn't begin to pronounce, into a lake that was the source of a river for several farming communities… then suggestions that it wasn't an accident but a way of disposing of unwanted chemicals cheaply… ChemDeli cleared of all misconduct allegations… deformities seen in people living near the lake... all compensation claims rejected based on lack of evidence… the list went on and on. Reading, Scott found out that the current managing director had personally financed the plant that had gone up in flames and that he was one of four members of a management board that had been in charge when the chemical disposal incident had occurred. He was also one of the advisors regarding the compensation claims that had been rejected from people affected by the spill. Scott couldn't help but feel anger and disgust well up at what he was seeing, but he thought there would clearly be enough evidence here for a prosecution. The law shouldn't be broken, even in cases such as these. Cat's involvement was legally and morally wrong.

Yet, was Cat involved? Why would she set fire to a factory in order to plant cameras on the Thunderbirds, and then tell him about it? It didn't make sense – none of it did. And why wasn't he just telling his father everything that had happened, there might be a clue he'd missed – but he couldn't, somehow. For some reason he still didn't understand he had remain silent and would continue to do so.

Scott eventually went to bed, and lay there thinking about everything he had learned. Eventually he did sleep, dreaming about a man maniacally laughing while rowing a boat across a lake of an oozing green liquid, with a woman dressed as a cat watching him from the side whilst slowly licking her paw.


	3. Mudslide

Scott woke from a disturbed night feeling as though he had barely slept. He was also no closer to finding answers to all the questions he had been thinking about over the last couple of days. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he found deep bags under his blue eyes, and a shadow hanging around his chiselled cheekbones. Sighing deeply, he picked up a razor and tried to make himself look respectable.

It evidently didn't work, as the first words out of Gordon's mouth when he turned up in the kitchen to get some breakfast were "What happened to you? You look terrible!"

"Oh, just a bad night I guess."

Jeff looked sharply at his eldest son over the top of his morning paper. "You aren't worrying about the cameras, are you? Leave me to worry about that – you need to focus on the missions."

"No, it's not that dad," Scott smiled at him. "I just need something to eat and some coffee. It's been pretty humid and I just haven't slept well." This was a plausible enough explanation – the whole Island knew that Scott eschewed the air conditioning in favour of 'fresh air' in his room, and it had been particularly heavy recently with a storm on the horizon. Jeff went back to his morning paper satisfied with the response, while Scott attacked the coffee pot. Gordon, the only other brother present, was reading the sections of the paper his father had yet to come to.

"Hey!" he called suddenly, startling Scott into spilling hot coffee down his front. With a scowl and muttered swear words he swiped at it ineffectively with a tea towel while Gordon continued. "Apparently the head of ChemDeli has filed for bankruptcy – isn't that the company whose plant went up yesterday?"

"That's right Gordon," his father said, setting down his own paper and coming around to Gordon's shoulder to look at the article. "It says here he had invested a large amount of personal finance into that plant, and now it's ruined he's heavily in debt." The eldest Tracy whistled softly as he continued to read the article. "For someone that once was one of the wealthiest men in America that is a long way to fall."

"What happened dad?" Scott asked casually, hoping that his father would have more information than his late night search had provided.

"ChemDeli was involved in a huge scandal about twenty years ago now regarding the disposal of chemical waste; there was a rumour that an accidental spill in Asia had been caused deliberately to try to cut disposal costs. The fallout was extreme with whole communities affected, and ChemDeli's reputation was destroyed despite protestations of innocence. The current MD Walker Long was implicated as one of the instigators behind the disposal scheme. He was taken to court along with the company and was acquitted, but the damage was done and the business didn't pick up the same afterwards. There were also rumours that he had been required to pay hefty court fees as part of the settlement. This new venture into fuels was supposed to put ChemDeli back on the map, to reinvigorate the company now that the original disaster has faded from most memories."

"But if he was acquitted, then why didn't the company start getting customers again?" Gordon asked, frowning at his father.

"I think people were unwilling to invest in case it happened again," came the reply. "Also, there was doubt cast at the time about the integrity of the jury – supposedly several members received unexpected windfalls shortly after the court case was over."

"Maybe it was karma for his plant to be burnt down."

Jeff looked in surprise at his eldest son. Scott was usually the peace maker, the level headed brother that dispersed the arguments between the others. For him to be expressing such a strong opinion was unusual, especially as he usually tried to take everyone's side.

"Not if it was set deliberately – no one deserves to lose their livelihood, whatever their past transgressions may be."

Scott simply shrugged and started to eat in silence, staring into space as he tried to process everything he'd heard. His father surreptitiously watched him as he pretended to keep reading the paper, wondering what was going through his son's head. Gordon soon finished, and headed down to the garages to help make a start on cleaning up the vehicles that had been damaged in the last mission. Eventually, realising that Scott was so embroiled in his own thoughts that he wouldn't start a conversation, Jeff folded the newspaper up and put it on the counter.

"What's on your mind, son?"

Scott jumped a little as he was brought out of his reverie, looking up to see his father looking at him with concern in his eyes. Realising the older man wanted some answers, Scott thought a while and then replied "I was wondering why we spend so much time and effort fighting a fire for someone who probably deserves to lose his laboratory, risking our own lives, when there are probably other emergencies we could be at where human life is endangered."

Jeff sighed and stood up. He has been expecting a question like this at some point, but he was a little surprised that it had come from Scott. He had expected it from Alan or Gordon, as they were the more impulsive sons and also more judgemental characters. Still, he realised that there was more to Scott than the boy let most people see, probably only John or Virgil were close enough to him to truly see the hidden depths behind the calm exterior. "Take a walk with me, Scott," and he led his son out of the kitchen, past a smiling Tin-Tin who was reading a book in a chair on the balcony and out to the rocks on the far edge of the swimming pool, overlooking the sparkling Pacific ocean. Today was relatively still, so the ocean had quieted into gentle ripples, and the morning sun danced across the top of the waves.

"I often ask myself the same thing," he confessed to the younger man standing beside him. "I ask myself why I send my sons out on missions not always justified by dire need, putting them in harm's way time and time again for very little reward."

"You do?" Scott asked surprised, unaware that his father had ever had doubts about International Rescue.

"Indeed." Jeff looked at his son, who was staring out at the ocean. Maybe it wasn't such a surprise after all that it had been Scott to raise this question – he could see a lot of himself in his eldest son. "But every time I come back to the same answer."

"And what is that?" Scott turned to face his father now, his blue eyes curious and intense.

"I realise that I would still send you – even if it is only a building ablaze if it's somewhere where there is a risk of escalation, as there is never a guarantee that there would be no casualties. What would happen if someone died in that plant, because they had been unaccounted for? Not to mention the environmental disaster if the main fuel store had gone up. The wind was favourable, but it may have changed at any moment." Jeff faced his son now, looking into the blue eyes that were gazing back. "The day someone dies because of our inaction, someone that we could have saved if we had just tried, is the day that International Rescue fails in its duty."

Scott took his time thinking about Jeff's words and eventually nodded slowly. "I think I understand now, father. Thank you."

"Anytime son," and Jeff walked back into the house, leaving Scott to stare out at the ocean and think more about what he had just heard.

For the next couple of days the Tracy family were occupied with cleaning and fixing the two machines used in the last mission. As well as the obvious dirt and dents, the Firefly had cracked an axle which required considerably more attention and some specialist parts, and two of the hoses on the fire truck had been singed badly and needed to be replaced. Virgil and Brains took a trip to the mainland to acquire parts, whilst the others spent their time cleaning the trucks until they were gleaming. Scott also finished touching up the scratches on Thunderbird 1, a difficult task that left him feeling far less friendly towards curvaceous women prancing around in masks. By the time they were finished, the Tracy boys were dirty, tired and aching - but their machines stood gleaming in front of them, as good as new.

"Thanks for h-helping," stammered Brains, looking over their handiwork.

"No problem," Gordon replied, tiredly wiping his hand across his face to try to remove some oil from his forehead. "It would have taken you weeks if you'd had to do it alone. What have you been doing with your time, anyway?"

"I've been looking a-at this camera," Brains replied, pulling the little red box out of his pocket. "It a-appears to function on a timing device, very simple really, which is probably why we didn't detect it. L-luckily, Scott found it when he did, as by now it would have been able to photograph most of the interior of our hangers."

"Good work, Brains," Scott said, before turning to his brothers. "Now if only we could find out who planted it!"

Following their hard work in the hangers, the Tracy boys were allowed some time to play. The next day they took to the pool, playing water polo and letting off some steam. Tin-Tin was sitting with Jeff Tracy at his desk, typing up some letters for the engineering company that originally made Jeff his billions and was now the cover for International Rescue. Jeff himself was replying to messages from his main office on the mainland when a loud beeping noise filled the room. Looking up saw that the eyes on the portrait of John Tracy were flashing. Immediately his communication system sprung into life.

"What is it, John?"

"There's been a landslide in America, dad, fairly close to the factory fire a few days ago. Three men are trapped in a car underneath the rubble. With the recent storms, the rescue teams are tied up elsewhere and these men have called International Rescue as a last resort."

"Close to the fire, hm? Any sign that this is a related incident?"

John knew what his father meant straight away. "It's unlikely dad, the area has seen some extreme weather recently and there have been issues throughout the state. I think this time it's coincidence."

""Tin-Tin, better get the boys." Jeff said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "And Brains too, I think. Do you have coordinates John?"

John gave his father the coordinates, then broke off to listen to the radio again as more information came through. Thunderbird 5 could be a lonely posting, but it was vitally important throughout missions but particularly at the beginning, as the information received could help inform the rest of IR about what equipment they would need, how many injuries there were, and what machines they'd use. While Jeff was waiting for more information from John, the rest of his sons came into the room, followed by Brains. His sons, with the exception of Virgil, had obviously been enjoying themselves in the pool – Scott had bothered to try to dry and throw on a shirt, but the younger two stood dripping water, a fact that Kyrano – the Tracy's long time housekeeper – would complain bitterly about later. Jeff turned now to them.

"Take Thunderbird 1 and get in the air, Scott. John can brief you on the way. Virgil, Alan, take Thunderbird 2. We'll decide what pod we'll need when John gets more information. Oh and boys, this is close to the scene of the last mission so keep your eyes out."

"You think it may have been caused deliberately," Virgil asked with concern.

"It's looking unlikely but still be careful out there," his father replied. "Get going, and I'll let you know if I find out anything else."

"F.A.B. father," the boys cried, getting into position. John's intercom bleeped back into life and he quickly filled his father in on the details.

"Three men trapped in a vehicle under a landslide, precariously on the edge of a large drop. Recommend Thunderbird 1 lands down the road where there are no further risks of landslide, Thunderbird 2 will need an earth mover and the elevator – there's no way of landing next to the incident. It's looking even less likely to be deliberate dad, there has been a warning out about mudslides in the area for a few weeks now. It looks as those these guys were just caught off-guard."

"That's good to know John," replied his father. "Can you forward the information on to the boys please, and keep in touch with developments."

"F.A.B. dad."

Once John had gone, Jeff returned to his seat to wait for news. Soon he heard and saw Thunderbird 1 take to the sky with a roar, followed soon after by Thunderbird 2. He sat back and steepled his fingers together while he waited for the boys to report what the situation was like on the ground.

Flying over the danger area Scott could immediately see the problem. The mud was saturated from recent storms and very unstable. The three men were in an open top jeep, and had been overwhelmed when the mudslide struck. The jeep had remained upright somehow, but had been pushed to the side of a road where it was literally hanging off the edge. The mud had gotten into the jeep as well, and at least one man had sustained injuries, he knew this much from John's report. There was also nowhere he could land Thunderbird 1 near the site. Instead he took her about a mile down the road to a stable location, and parked up. The traffic on the road had been stopped by local police, but they hadn't been able to reach the men and so had suggested they call International Rescue. Scott couldn't see the road block from where he was, so he assumed they'd put a wider cordon around the area, or maybe another landslide had made the road impassable further along.

"I've landed Virgil," he said into his watch, which housed a communication device and hologram generator from which he could contact all members of International Rescue on an encrypted wavelength. "I've gone up the road as there was nowhere safe in the vicinity of the jeep, but I'll send the mobile camera down to have a proper look around."

"F.A.B. Scott," came the reply. "I should be with you in four minutes."

Scott unloaded mobile control to the edge of the mudslide and sent the camera away to the location he'd found the jeep in. Not only did this allow him to see what state they were in, but it gave him a way of watching what was going on even though he was so far away. It also allowed him to communicate with the casualties, and provide some reassurance that International Rescue were on the scene and trying to help them. He was just sending the camera to the scene when he could hear the rumble of Thunderbird 2 arriving where the men were trapped. He quickly moved the camera closer, seeing the green craft hovering over the car. He saw something else as well, something that made him reach for his radio.

"Virgil, be quick about it! The mud is moving again!"

With a groan that echoed up to where Scott had placed mobile control the mud around the car started sliding, tipping the jeep off the edge of the cliff. With lightning reflexes Virgil sent an electromagnet down and attached it to the car, holding it in place while the land surged around it. The car strained against the magnet and threatened to break off, but just about stayed attached. In the Thunderbird, Virgil was struggling to keep the craft level while Alan performed the difficult rescue in the elevator. Slowly, he managed to get all the men in the car up to safety. One man had suffered what appeared to be a broken arm, and another had been knocked unconscious when the car had first been hit by the mud, but all told they were minor injuries and the men had been very fortunate indeed. Once Alan got back onto the Thunderbird, Virgil released the magnets and the jeep shuddered and plummeted off the edge of the road, bursting into a ball of fire as it hit the ground far below. Scott watched it go – during the rescue he had moved closer to get a better view of what was happening. Meanwhile Virgil swung his craft around and called Scott to let him know he was heading back to base, via a hospital to unload his new passengers.

'Good thing Virgil got those clamps on it,' Scott murmured as he watched the wreckage of the jeep burn itself out. He programmed the remote camera to fly back to mobile control and returned to his beloved 'bird to fly her home.

The only problem was that when he reached his aircraft there was already someone sitting in it.


	4. We’ll meet again...

Scott just stared at the woman sat in his seat reclining against the red leather, her high heeled boots resting on his control panel and one gloved hand idly resting against one of the craft's thruster controls. The access hatch that he always, always shut when he was away from the craft on a mission had been opened somehow yet there wasn't an obvious scratch on it.

After a pause that seemed to last an eternity she turned to look at him, gazing with large eyes out of the same black mask he'd been trying in vain not to think about for the last four days. In the light of the day he could see that her eyes were a rich brown, so light that they nearly appeared golden.

"Your colleague has good reflexes," she commented nonchalantly, swinging her legs down and swivelling around to face him. When Scott continued to stand and stare at her, mouth slightly agape and not looking like her would be recovering soon she rolled her eyes and stood up slowly at the edge of the craft. Scott couldn't seem to be able to move, still utterly shocked at finding her there.

Eventually he found his voice and managed to close his gaping jaw. "What did... I mean... but... how did you get in?"

She shrugged in reply. "I have ways. I did say I was a good thief. In fact, I'm probably the best thief there is."

She dropped down out of the cockpit to stand beside him and took the opportunity to look more closely at the man in front of her. The first time they met, it had been an unnatural darkness and colours were muted – she hadn't really been able to see what he properly looked like. Now, she approved of what she saw. His eyes were a piercing blue, his hair a dark brown. He stood a head taller than her, with a slender and yet muscular frame, similar to her own build.

"Why did you tell me about the cameras?"

"I told you before, I have no personal quarrel with International Rescue and I don't want to see the organisation fail. Your technology is advanced and brilliant – and cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

"So you didn't have anything to do with the fire?"

The woman stayed silent, and Scott was more confused than ever. She had as good as confessed to setting a fire designed to place cameras on the Thunderbirds, but then told him she couldn't allow that to happen. Yet she didn't deny she had been involved. He was about to question further when she answered him.

"Hypothetically, if I were to have had a hand setting the fire, is it inconceivable to you that it may have served more than one purpose?"

Understanding dawned on Scott. "You worked with somebody – you set the fire while they planted the cameras?" A barely perceptible nod. "But you didn't want to plant the cameras, you just wanted the fire. Why?"

"Why?" she almost spat out. "Why would I want to ruin the life of a man responsible for the tortured and painful deaths of hundreds of people, whose descendants still have to live with the damage that he caused?"

"If he was responsible, then he would have been found guilty in a court of law." Scott stated, his voice firm and bearing upright.

She laughed at that, a sarcastic laugh so bitter that he could almost feel the strength of his convictions failing. "That is so endearing. But I don't think you truly believe that. I think we both know that provided you have enough money you can get away with anything, including murder. The laws don't apply to the likes of him, and it is the innocent and the poor who suffer the consequences."

"You still cannot take the law into your own hands," Scott maintained stubbornly.

She was silent again, and Scott was beginning to get annoyed. He hadn't really received a straight answer during this whole conversation, and apart from learning that this thief – Cat, she had said she was known as – had been working with someone else when setting the fire, he hadn't even learned anything. A worrying suspicion formed in his mind.

"Did you cause the mudslide?"

Despite the mask, the look she gave him suggested that if he'd be able to see her whole face he would have seen an expression of incredulity. "Do you really think it is possible for me to cause a large scale mudslide? I'm impressed with your faith in my abilities but I think that's beyond even me."

"Then why are you here? You first tell me about cameras that your colleague planted and then now turn up for no discernible reason – all I can think of is that you are trying to distract me while someone tries to sabotage my ship! And don't do that!" He grabbed her wrist, as she had about to start drumming on the Thunderbird again with the wicked claws she had protruding from her gloves.

"Let go of me," she hissed, straining away from him.

"I won't until you tell me what you're planning! Did you bring more cameras? Or are you scouting for information before your next sabotage?" Scott knew that there was more Cat wasn't telling him, and he was determined to find it out before she vanished again.

Unfortunately for Scott, what he didn't expect was for her to twist round and expertly throw him over her shoulder.

He lay on the ground with the breath knocked out of him, while she came over. Standing on his legs with her high heels to successfully pin him down, she crouched and leant over his body to bring her face close to his. "Bad idea, birdman. I brought nothing this time but my curiosity – be thankful."

She stayed there for a heartbeat too long and Scott was overwhelmed by her closeness – his head span, and not just because he'd just been flipped onto his back. Eventually she jumped off him, stepping on his abdomen as she went, causing him to double up in pain and winding him. He struggled to regain his feet but it was too late, she had vanished. He staggered back to Thunderbird 1 and used its remote sensors to look for her, but it was as though she had faded into the landscape. He searched around the aircraft, but eventually had to concede that she was gone – she had vanished somewhere between the road and the saturated rubble that was the result of the landslides experienced earlier in the day. He eventually adjusted his uniform, launched his craft and set off for base, still feeling disorientated and hoping that the flight would help him arrange his thoughts back into their usual calm order. Unfortunately for Scott, it would take a much longer flight to forget the woman crouched above him with red lips, brown eyes and a presence like none he had ever known experienced before.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The thief known in criminal circles as the Cat Burglar paced angrily across the room, turning just short of the far wall before turning and pacing again, barely resisting the idea of punching it as she paced. She was in a small motel room, the kind of place where provided you had the money to pay they didn't care who you were, something which suited her perfectly. She had holed up here when she'd arrived in America and it was acting as her base while she accomplished her tasks there. She was furious with herself over her carelessness, having spent a lifetime hiding her tracks wherever she went. She reminded herself angrily that she needed to remain focussed on her purpose and not go skipping all over the country after International Rescue. Something about the pilot of the silver aircraft had intrigued her when she'd met him in the gloom at the factory, even though it had only been coincidence that he was the last to depart. Upon hearing about the mudslides not far away from some of the patrons of the bar down the street from the motel, particularly the rumours that there were people caught up in it, she's chanced her hand to see if the Thunderbirds would arrive again. Her curiosity had been rewarded soon after when she saw the silver jet arrive. She'd tracked it until she saw it land and the same pilot start to unload equipment.

She had waited until the man had gone to the edge of the mud, where it was oozing over the roads with rocks and stones falling all the time, and had broken into the craft. That had not been hard – breaking and entering was something of her speciality, she hadn't lied to the birdman when she said she was the best thief there was. What had been harder was controlling her emotions around the man in blue now she had been closer to him. Something about the way those blue eyes had looked at her with such innocence had affected her, made her careless. The last thing she needed to do was to find herself wrestling him to the ground. The proximity, coupled with the unnerving effect his presence seemed to have on her body, made it very hard to control herself. She had been so close to him, and she had resisted so hard to avoid kissing those perfect lips.

So now she was furious with herself, for allowing herself a moment of weakness that now risked everything she had fought so hard to achieve. She had a mission and she couldn't afford to get distracted when she was so close to her goal. The men who murdered her mother would do more than lose their livelihoods by the time she was through with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this so far, I hope you’ve enjoyed it!


	5. It’s all about the girl

Scott arrived back at Tracy Island to find the number of occupants swelled by two new additions. Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, a British aristocrat that also happened to be the secret head of International Rescue's network of undercover agents that were spread all over the world, had arrived with her butler Parker. She was drinking tea with his father in the lounge, sitting in easy chairs around a small table and dressed in an immaculate white dress that oozed style and class. Both turned towards Scott as he entered.

"Ah Scott," Lady Penelope called as she placed her teacup delicately back in its saucer. "Just the person I wanted to see! I've been trying to persuade your father to give you some leave to come and stay with me for a few days, but he tells me you can't possibly have the time off at the moment. Tintin is coming, and it would be nice to have extra company to fill my big, empty house. I really think he is being most unreasonable." As she said this she stood and walked over to Scott, finishing by kissing his cheek in greeting. She stood next to him and faced the elder Tracy, hands on her hips accusingly.

"Now Penny that's not fair," Jeff replied, leaning back in his chair. "I explained to you about the cameras we found, and it's highly likely that the perpetrator will cause another disaster just to try to collect them. I need Scott around just in case. Besides, it's unfair to accost him just as he's come back from a mission," he added jokingly.

"Never mind Penny, I'm sure you and Tintin will have more fun without me there anyway!"

A quick flash of disappointment shot across Lady Penelope's expression, so quickly neither Tracy noticed, before she smiled graciously and replied. "You may be right, Scott. Now no one will be able to distract us from our gossiping, or curtail our shopping trips!"

"Now don't go mad, Penny – the plane will be too heavy to fly home if you buy too many clothes! When are you leaving?"

"Oh, I think I can spare a couple of days, Jeff. That will let Alan spend some time with Tintin before he goes to relieve John."

Scott smiled as he poured himself a glass of water from a tray always left in the room for the boys when they returned from missions. Alan wouldn't be particularly pleased that Tintin was going to stay with Penny the week before he was due to go back up to Thunderbird 5, but Penny had promised to take her to see a touring opera and the timing couldn't be helped. She'd be back on the Island by the time the blond brothers rotated again and Alan could live without her for a while. The pair hadn't ever acknowledged their blatant attraction, but everyone on the Island knew it was just a matter of time before they made their relationship official. There was even a sweepstake, instigated by Gordon of course. After all Alan was the only brother who looked likely to hold down a proper relationship, and therefore was the main source of gossip and teasing on the Island. Unbidden, an image of light brown eyes swam into Scott's mind accompanied by taunting, scornful lips. He accidently slammed the glass back down on the cabinet as he put his hand out to steady himself.

"Scott? Are you ok son?" He looked up to see both his father and Penelope looking at him with concern, and realised he must have lost track of the conversation.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired," he replied. "I'll head off to get a shower and something to eat. Can you let me know when Virgil gets back?"

"Sure thing Scott, should only be a few minutes from now. Take it easy this afternoon."

He headed out of the sliding doors, towards the private quarters where all of the brothers had spacious rooms. When he had gone, Jeff stood up and poured himself and Penelope a small measure of scotch from a decanter he kept on a sideboard. Handing her the glass, he frowned a little. "Scott hasn't seemed himself for the last few days. I can't decide whether he is worried about something or just overtired. He does need a holiday Penny, but I just can't afford to let him go at the moment. After this mess is over it may be a good idea for him to come and stay for a while, I can't remember the last time he took a proper vacation."

"I'd be delighted to have him, Jeff. He does take his responsibilities very seriously, and in that respect he reminds me of a certain former astronaut…"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Having Penelope around livened up the small family party and the atmosphere on Tracy Island over the next few days was relaxed and happy. If Scott was rather quieter than usual, or a little distant at times when he wasn't directly included in the conversation, it didn't appear to be noticed by the others. The inhabitants of the Island had spent their time fishing, swimming, reading and generally relaxing whilst they had company present, and it gave all the boys a chance to unwind with the exception of John, still stuck up in Thunderbird 5. However, as there was less than a week until he was coming back down, for once he didn't mind as much that the others were having fun without him.

The day Penelope, Parker and Tintin left the whole party was in a sombre mood. All were feeling that the Island would be much quieter without the two ladies, and Alan in particular was taking it badly. Alan was going to miss her, and the prospect of a month stuck on the space-station to follow wasn't improving his mood. The boys all waved from the balcony as the small plane, piloted by Penelope herself, took off from the short Island runway and circled once before heading off towards a distant United Kingdom.

Seeing the mournful expression on his younger brother's face, Gordon punched him gently on the shoulder. "Cheer up Alan – race you to the pool!"

"Why is it always the pool with you?!" The blond brother complained, but unable to resist a race soon hurtled after the redhead. Jeff soon excused himself and went back to his office and Kyrano to the kitchen, leaving just Scott and Virgil stood on the balcony, leaning on the railings and looking at the sea.

"Something is bugging you, Scott." Virgil was the most sensitive of the Tracy brothers and picked up more easily on the emotions of others. He and Scott were close, so it was not surprising that he had been the one to notice Scott's distracted mood and even less so that he commented on it.

Scott hesitated before replying, not knowing exactly what to say. He had been plagued by disturbing thoughts for several days, most of which centred on a thief called Cat. Sometimes he was infuriated at her, sometimes very concerned about the threat posed by her, but always completely absorbed in the thought og her. He had found himself hoping that she would turn up at the next rescue, knowing that if she did it was likely that it had been caused deliberately for someone to sabotage or spy on International Rescue. He had also found himself hoping that the next rescue would come quickly, something he'd never done before no matter how bored he sometimes was when stuck on the Island with nothing to do. He was more interested in this thief than he'd ever been with a girl, even though he had been in several relationships previously. Admittedly none had been particularly serious, but now all of those girls seemed ordinary, and boring. None had brought the excitement he felt at the thought of seeing her again, or the haunting visions of golden eyes that caused him to wake up suddenly in the middle of the night, disorientated and disappointed. But he didn't feel able to confess any of this to his brother, not when he had failed to mention meeting the thief on either of the previous occasions.

Virgil waited and looked out at the ocean while his brother tried to pull his thoughts together. In the end Scott settled on a half-truth.

"I think I'm still thinking about those cameras. Someone is going to set up an emergency deliberately, just so that we attend. I think I'm on edge waiting for them to make their move."

Virgil squeezed his brother's shoulder companionably. "I know what you mean – it's the waiting that is the worst bit. But don't worry, Brains and I have been working on a plan for when that happens."

"Oh?"

"Brains is busy letting the camera film the inside of a box, so that we can put it back on Thunderbird 2 exactly where we found it with nothing but a dark room filmed. It means that whoever placed it may not realise that we found it, and will just think their plan failed because the lights were off. It also acts as bait for us to try to catch the perpetrator. Hopefully they'll think that the camera on '1 wasn't fixed properly and fell off during flight."

"Not a bad idea, not bad at all." Scott replied, impressed by the plan they had concocted. "I take it we won't be going after the thief ourselves?"

"No, we'll alert the local police and let them deal with it – as dad pointed out International Rescue isn't set up for catching criminals. Hopefully I've set your mind to rest now – wanna be distracted with a game of chess?"

Scott grinned as he agreed, and followed his brother into the lounge. Chess was one of his favourite pastimes, but he knew Virgil was only playing it to cheer him up as the younger man wasn't particularly fond of it despite being a skilled player. He appreciated the thought as it did distract him for a while, as was Virgil's clear intention. Their father, looking in to check up on them, was relieved to see that Scott had stopped brooding on whatever it was that had been upsetting him. Virgil hadn't been the only Tracy to notice something amiss with the older brother, but Jeff had decided to stay out of it and let Scott deal with it himself. He had expected Virgil to step in at some point, and was pleased to see that Virgil had chosen the perfect way to cheer up his oldest brother.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Gordon was sat in his father's office a couple of days later, grumpily hammering out missives on the old manual typewriter. Why his father still insisted on using it to send out formal letters from Tracy Industries when there were far better computers everywhere else in the house, he had no idea. Scowling, he saw that he'd made another spelling mistake, and tore the piece of paper out of the machine before screwing it into a ball and tossing it in the direction of the bin. He began his page again, muttering under his breath about how unfair it was that it was he that took over many of Tintin's secretarial roles while she was away. He was concentrating so hard that he didn't hear the beeping when it first started, but as soon as he did he forgot all of his previous annoyance.

"Hi there Johnny, what's up?"

"Hi Gordon, seems like there's been a cave in at a mine in northern California. Is dad around?"

Gordon ran out of the room, and very soon Jeff Tracy appeared. The younger son appeared to be rounding up all of the brothers left on the Island, as they appeared one at a time in Jeff's small office.

"What is it John?"

John quickly ran through all the information he knew. There appeared to have been a cave in about an hour previously and a group of six miners had been trapped when their exit shaft had collapsed. The ground was still very unstable so conventional digging tools and even the mole couldn't be used, and there was no way of communicating with the miners so no one even knew if they were still alive. Jeff listened to all this, and quickly sent all four boys to the scene, with Alan and Gordon accompanying Virgil in Thunderbird 2. When John had finished relating all the technical details he had gathered, he paused and looked a little uncomfortable.

"There's something else I think you should know, dad. The cave in seems completely unexpected, there have been no earthquakes in the area recently and there has been no recently drilling. It looks a bit suspect."

Jeff looked grave as he replied. "Pass the information on to the others John, and tell them to be careful and to keep their eyes open." He then called Brains up to his office before putting in a call to the North Californian district police.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Scott arrived at the scene, police and rescue crews were all over the danger zone. He radioed the police officer that his father had been in touch with, and requested that they keep an area clear for the Thunderbirds to land. He brought Thunderbird 1 down gently, and contacted Virgil to find out how much longer he would take to arrive. That done he began unloading mobile control from the silver craft, soon hearing the huge engines of Thunderbird 2 approaching his position. He quickly discussed the situation with the personnel already there, and then moved back to the mobile control unit where he could radio his brother whilst monitoring for any potential seismic activity.

"Thunderbird 2 this is Thunderbird 1, come in please."

"I'm hearing you Scott, what's the situation?"

"Hi Virgil, apparently they've managed to find a narrow opening down to the area where the men are trapped, but it's not big enough to get an elevator in. I think one of us is going to have to climb down with a rope and tie the miners up to winch them out with the help of one of the small evacuation systems. There really isn't much space for anything else."

There was a short pause while Virgil considered what to do. "I think we'll take the mobile winch. Scott, you're the best climber so you should go down, I'll send Gordon over to keep an eye on mobile control. Alan and I can operate the winch from the surface and triage the men when they are freed." Thunderbird 2 began heaving itself up, leaving the green pod that formed its belly on the ground. Slowly the large door opened and a vehicle drove out with all three IR members sat in it. They drove to where Scott had set up mobile control near his craft to exchange him for Gordon before heading towards where a large group of people were gathered around the crevasse that led to the trapped men. They moved back respectively as the team approached, impressed by the efficiency of the International Rescue organisation.

When the Tracy brothers arrived at the narrow chink that led to the miners they were met by a member of the rescue team, a fire officer who had been coordinating the rest of the crews. "Boy, am I glad to see you! We've managed to find a crack that leads all the way down to the portion of mine that they're trapped in, and we can communicate with them, but we have no way of getting them out and this whole area could collapse again at any time."

"We'll do our best, sir. We aim to climb down and then winch the men up – is there enough space for a person to climb down? And do you know how many men are there, and what state they're in?" Scott climbed down from the truck as he spoke, and started to pull out a long length of rope from the winch.

"I think a person could get down there, but we haven't a winch we could bring up here that is strong enough to pull them out, and at least two men are unconscious from what the others tell me. There are six down there in total, all the unaccounted personnel. That sure is a neat machine you've got there if that little winch can handle the weight of a person!"

Virgil smiled as he also jumped down from the truck. "That's the idea sir. Are you ready to go down Scott?" His older brother was already tying the rope around his waist, and at Virgil's question he nodded briefly.

"If this area could collapse again then I think we should get those men out as soon as possible." And with that he started the climb into the crevasse, inching slowly down the unstable rock ledges which at times were so narrow he could barely creep through. It would just about be wide enough, he thought, to get the men back up, but it was not going to be a comfortable ride for them. Eventually, he began to hear murmured voices, and then realised there was more light than his small torch provided, and knew he was reaching the tunnel where the men were trapped.

His appearance caused surprise and then relief for the miners who were trapped. None looked particularly large, and he could see that although one man still lay unconscious at the edge of the group a second seemed to be recovering slowly. With a brief explanation of who he was, he started to attach the first man onto the rope to winch him back up.

At the top, Virgil heard his wrist com beeping and a very faint, distorted voice came through. 'First one ready to go, Virgil." He activated the winch, and slowly drew the first man out of the shaft. Scott had prioritised the most injured, so the first man up was the one who had yet to regain consciousness. Virgil and Alan between them managed to get him onto a stretcher, and Alan went to lower the rope again while Virgil checked him over. Apart from a nasty cut on the head that was likely to be the cause of his unconscious state, the man didn't seem to be in too bad a shape and Virgil released him to the waiting ambulance crews before returning to wait for the second miner.

Gordon was keeping an eye on things at mobile control, listening to the radio traffic between his brothers, and so didn't notice the black figure approaching at first. However, when glancing over to Thunderbird 2 he thought he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. Bearing in mind John's warning, he grabbed his comms and went over to investigate. When he got there he saw that the small box camera they had placed back on the machine had vanished. Swearing loudly, he ran to grab the nearest police officer and hurriedly told them what he had seen. The police had already been briefed by Jeff back on base, and so promised to have the area surrounded and the thief hunted down. Relieved, Gordon walked back to mobile control, just as Virgil was informing him that the fifth man was out of the mine and they were just waiting for the last person.

Reaching mobile control, he caught sight of the figure again, this time lurking by Thunderbird 1. He yelled and began to run towards him, gratified to see him begin to run in the opposite direction. He was beginning to gain on his quarry when a roaring sound filled his ears and the ground began to shake. He spun to see what was happening behind him a fraction before he heard Virgil and Alan, almost simultaneously shouting through the telecom "Scott!"

Virgil had just been helping the sixth miner, who was fine other than a few scratches, when the earth beneath him began to move. In horror he watched as the crevasse they had been using to haul up the trapped men closed up as more mining tunnels collapsed underground, trapping his brother inside! Frantically he began clawing at the earth but to no avail, the crevasse had closed entirely and judging by the amount of dirt that had shifted, it would be amazing if the entire mine shaft hadn't completely collapsed. Alan was busy shouting at his watch, trying to activate Scott's receiver but it was no use, there was no reply and it appeared as though the unit was dead. In shock, the two brothers looked at each other as realisation dawned that their elder brother was probably dead somewhere in the earth beneath their feet.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Scott had been thrown backwards by a wall of rock that came down where the crevasse had been, landing further up the shaft than the area the miners had been trapped in. As the earth continued to move around him he struggled to regain his feet, when the world opened up and he was falling for what seemed an eternity as the tunnel collapsed under him. As he fell, rocks and rubble fell with him and he was battered repeatedly until his head connected with something solid and he knew no more.


	6. In the Arms of an Angel

Scott slowly became aware that he was very cold and very tired. He tried to open his eyes but it hurt too much, so he stopped resisting and just lay still. As he began to recollect who he was, he began to be aware of the pain in nearly every part of his body. One of his legs was bent underneath him at a very uncomfortable angle. He tried to shift to move it, but this sent a stab of pain through his head that was so severe that it forced him back into unconsciousness.

When he next woke up, he became aware that there was light above him. He tried to open his eyes, but the pain was too much and he was about to give up and give in to blissful sleep again when a voice came through to his bleary mind "Oh no you don't, you have to stay awake for a while now and help me out here."

With more of an effort he tried to open his eyes again, and this time succeeded. The light dazzled him and hurt his already aching head, so he turned it with some difficulty and looked at the figure beside him. In the process he realised he'd been moved into a more comfortable position, as he now lay straight. Working very hard to get his uncooperative eyes to focus on what was happening in front of him, he realised with surprise that the woman sitting cross-legged in front of him and looking at him with concern was the same one he'd been dreaming about consistently for the last couple of weeks.

"Hello birdman. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Are you a dream?"

She chuckled, a self-deprecating sound which for once carried real amusement. "I certainly hope not. It would make for a pretty poor dream."

Scott thought hard, trying to work out what had happened, and why he was in so much pain. "Where am I?"

"That is a good question. Somewhere underneath northern California, but otherwise your guess is as good as mine."

"California – the rescue!" Events began to piece themselves together in Scott's mind, and he tried to sit up, but the attempt left him feeling weak and lightheaded. Just as he was about to give up two arms reached out to help him and he found himself leaning up against a rocky slope. Now he could try to look around and see quite how bad the situation was and what kind of shape he was in.

Cat had wedged the torch between two rocks, off to one side and shining up the wall, allowing the whole area to be illuminated dimly. Next to where he lay there was a large pile of rubble and dirt, but he was in a large cave and not a man-made tunnel as he had been in the mine. He could hear water off to one side, probably the original creator of the cavern he was in, and he couldn't see the far side of it as the torch light didn't reach far enough.

"It's a miracle I'm alive," he muttered, and looked at his watch. It appeared to be working but he couldn't get a response out of it so he had no way of contacting his brothers who must be very worried up on the surface.

"You're very lucky. When you fell through the tunnels you came down with a lot of mud which seems to have broken your fall. When I arrived, you were half submerged in the stuff. How are you feeling? Is anything particularly bad?"

"Honestly? I feel terrible," Scott managed an ironic smile. "A bit like I've had a ton of bricks landing on me, but apart from the crack I've had on the head I think I'll survive."

For the first time since he'd met her, the thief looked uncertain. "I know very little about medicine, although I did bring something, a herb, that will help to deaden pain. What do you know about treating head injuries?"

Scott thought hard about the first aid that Virgil had tried to drill into them all. "It could cause concussion, so you have to stop them falling asleep as that could cause brain damage."

"I can cope with that. We're going to have to get out of here on foot and you're too big for me to carry, so you will have to try to walk. I have some water and a little food that you can have, but then we need to start moving." With that she gave him an unusual looking plant, along with some crackers and a flask of water. When he looked at the plant dubiously she gestured impatiently. "Eat it, it will remove some of the pain." Scott complied, and began to feel a numbing sensation spreading over him. "That's better birdman, now can you stand? We need to move in case anything else comes down."

"My name is Scott."

The woman looked at him with an unreadable expression before she nodded slowly. "Well then, Scott, shall we go?"

He tried to stand, only to fall when he found his left leg very weak underneath him. Looking down, he saw a red stain seeping through his blue trousers just below the knee. He sank back down, only dimly aware that Cat had already begun stripping back the trousers. A long, jagged cut on his calf was bleeding profusely, which gave her some concern. "That herb I gave you is also a blood thinner, if I'd known you had a large wound I wouldn't have given it to you."

Scott shifted uncomfortably as she looked at it closely. "I didn't know I had it." He winced as she gently touched the wound, pressing around it to try to stem the flow of blood and studying it further. Eventually she sighed deeply and to Scott's surprise removed her black mask before wrapping it around his leg as a tourniquet. Her hair fell to shoulder length in waves and although he couldn't properly see its colour in the dim torchlight inside the cave, he would guess that it was light brown. Her face, when she turned it to him, made him catch his breath despite his dizziness. She looked up at that, and her brow creased into a frown whilst she continued to adjust the tourniquet.

"I have nothing else to use." In truth, she was hoping that he would only have a vague recollection of her appearance. He had lost a lot of blood with a head injury to boot, and she thought it unlikely that he would remember clearly everything that had occurred. She hoped rather than knew this to be the case – she had risked a lot to find him and now had revealed her appearance to him as well, which was as careless as she had ever been.

She couldn't help it, though. She'd been trying to retrieve the cameras from the aircraft when a different member of IR, a younger redheaded man, had caught her and given chase. Suddenly the ground had roared, and although her pursuer had immediately turned around and run in the opposite direction she had felt a brief stab of fear. She had seen the tall, dark stranger that had so affected her go down to rescue the miners and hadn't yet seen him return. This had sent her springing towards the red SUV that had been the drop off point for the cameras – she had thrown the single box she had retrieved in through an open window before running back to the mine. She had been gratified by the sight of two police cars giving chase to the SUV as it sped off and turned her attention to the task at hand. She had spent the best part of the previous week exploring the whole underground system and knew that underneath the existing mines were a much older set of tunnels and shafts, disused for many years. She had headed down a distant entrance, stopped to grab a rations pack she had stowed there ready for her own escape and started to search the tunnels.

She didn't know how long she had been down there before she found him – certainly a long time had passed and she was beginning to feel the tendrils of fear that her search would be fruitless when she had come across the large cave with the river flowing through it. She hadn't been into it before, but several of the old tunnels above it must have collapsed creating an entrance through which she could pass. She still wouldn't have found the prone form lying half-submerged in a pile of rocks and dirt, except that at that moment he moved slightly, causing some of the rubble to move and directing her attention to his location. Luck was on his side – once she had pulled him free she couldn't see any obvious breaks and so she had just sat and waited for him to regain consciousness.

Now she straightened up from her inspection of his leg, relieved to see that the bleeding had subsided. "Can you try again?"

Scott gingerly attempted to stand again, and although putting weight on his lacerated leg hurt considerably, he could just about manage it. He was feeling lightheaded and dizzy, and the pain relief she'd given him was probably only adding to the drowsiness. He tried to take a pace but stumbled and would have fallen if she hadn't been there to catch him. "Thanks, Cat," he murmured, putting his weight back on his own legs and trying again. Slowly they inched forwards across the cave, the rough footing not helping their progress. The small circle of light cast by the torch moved with them, and soon Scott couldn't see the pile of rocks he had been using as a seat. He instead felt that he was trapped in an infinite cave with no discernible end.

"We'll take it slowly," she murmured, her face beside his as she helped support him. She hesitated briefly before adding, "You can call me Angel."

Eventually the far side loomed into view, and as they got closer Scott could see that there were tunnels leading out of the walls, unfortunately quite high up which would require a scramble to reach. "Can I rest for a bit?"

Angel looked at him, and even by the poor torchlight she could see that he looked pale, and was evidently in a lot of pain. She let him slump down, using the cave wall as a support, and rummaged in her ration pack for more food. When she approached him again, she could see that he was beginning to fall asleep, and remembering his warning about concussion woke him up quickly, handing him food and water to consume. That done, she could see his eyelids drooping, so tried to think of a way to keep him awake.

"So Scott, how did you end up as a part of International Rescue?"

"My father," came the reply, in a slightly dreamy voice. Much of his earlier coherence had fled, and he was now suffering from the side effects of the concussion he had sustained.

"What made your father suggest it?"

"He set it up. He asked us if we would run the operation for him, we agreed."

"Who is we?"

"My brothers and I." He fell silent, gazing into the darkness. Angel looked at him, slightly surprised by the answer. So the other members of International Rescue were his brothers! No wonder the one chasing her had hightailed it back when the tunnels had collapsed, he knew his brother was still underground. Seeing Scott begin to droop again so she moved over to him and pulled him upright, causing the man to wince in pain but the glazed expression on his face faded as he was forced to come back to the present.

"Time to get going."

She supported him again, and together they moved up the slope of debris towards the tunnel entrance. It wasn't as difficult as Scott had feared but climbing up the loose rocks that formed a ramp to the tunnel was still an arduous task that caused him a lot of pain. Reaching the top was a relief, and he would have sunk down again if Angel hadn't forced him to keep going.

She was beginning to be concerned about the state of the man leaning against her, they still had a long way to go and so far they'd barely managed to make it out of the cave. They moved forwards in silence for a while, inching their way along the twisting tunnel, losing track of time in their continuous plod through the darkness.

"Angel. That feels ironic for a thief."

"It's an abbreviation. My name is Angelique Dubois."

"You don't sound French."

"My mother was French, it is her name." Angel looked at the man, seeing strain in his face. Deciding that conversation would take his mind off the pain of their walk, and considering that she'd already given so much away about herself that she may as well continue, she elaborated further.

"Her name was Constance Dubois. She was an aid worker in Asia, soon after the great famine. She spent her time working with small communities with the help of a nearby monastery, helping them to petition for food supplies, hospitals. She even set up a school, and spent most of her free time teaching their children. She devoted years of her life to her cause, and became well known and well loved. One day a visiting English businessman doing charitable work in the area went to meet 'the angel of the people' as she had become known. He was so captivated by her that he took her home to England, gave her a house and kept her there. She fell in love with him, and in his own way I suppose he loved her very much. I was the result, and they chose to call me Angel on my father's insistence, after his 'angel' that he had brought home from the east. My mother added the extension; she had disliked her nickname, believing that only God had the right to determine those chosen to be his angels."

"So how did you go from that to…this?" Angel could see she had Scott's attention now and the expression of pain on his face had faded slightly as he was caught up in her story.

"To a thief?"

"Yeah, I mean... that seems a long way from where you are now."

Angel paused while she considered how much to tell him. She decided to throw caution to the wind – talking to him was helping and by this point she wasn't even particularly sure he was going to make it out of the caves.

"When I was six, my father abandoned us. He threw us out of the house he had given to us with no notice, and with no money or supplies. I still do not know why, perhaps we disappointed him in some way, perhaps he tired of my mother, perhaps his wife found out about us. Whatever the reason, we were destitute. We were left in a strange country, albeit the only one I had ever known, with no home, funds or hope of a future. My mother did the only thing she could – she went back to the east and took me with her.

"She was welcomed back into the community with open arms, and with great excitement – a western investor had opened up a chemical plant nearby and the local area was being supplied with jobs, opportunities. My mother was immediately suspicious; there were little local resources and no incentive for the plant to operate there. She left me one day in the care of the monks at the monastery she had worked with extensively, and disappeared. When I was older the monks told me she had gone to infiltrate the chemical plant, to find information regarding their activities, but at the time I was only aware that she had gone."

She fell silent for a while, and they continued their slow progress up the tunnel while Scott thought about what he had heard. Piecing information together in his mind, he suddenly realised that he probably knew the chemical firm that had built the plant. "ChemDeli! The chemical firm was ChemDeli! That explains why you have such a vendetta against them." Although he couldn't see her face, he felt the change in her posture and knew he was correct. He wanted to know more though. "What happened while she was away? What did she find out?"

For a while she was silent, and he worried that the moment had passed, and that he wouldn't learn anything else about this strange yet fascinating girl. But just as he was about to break the silence, she shifted position underneath his arm to take the weight differently and began to speak again.

"Monks do not make good parents, particularly not the monks at the monastery I had been left with who were of a particularly warrior-like order. They could not care for me, as is required by a child of that age, so instead they began to train me. I have since wondered whether this was what my mother had intended, that I become strong enough to help her fight her battles, or maybe she knew that she would not long be for this world so she wanted me to have the skills to survive. It may just have been that she was still affected by my father's desertion of us, and not thinking coherently. Either way, I will never know now. The monks trained me well during the time she was away; I learnt to endure pain, to become stronger, I learnt self-discipline, control of my emotions and how to fight. She was gone for nearly two years, and that is a very long time to a child of six.

"One day, a lone figure came crawling through the gate. She was nearly unrecognisable – I didn't know who she was, and refused to approach her even when I was told she was my mother. I only had dim memories of my mother at that time and plenty of resentment towards her for leaving me alone, much as my father had before. She was isolated from the rest of the monastery when she returned, and the monks tended to her. One day I went to see her, and I will never forget what I saw. Her eyes were cloudy, and she was emaciated. Her mind had gone, and she sat spouting nonsense from dawn to dusk. She was also in constant pain and she stayed that way until she slowly died, a very long time later."

She had kept a level voice throughout her narration so far, and gave no trace of her emotions although Scott, craning his head around to look at her, noticed her expression was wooden and she kept her eyes focussed on the floor of the tunnel ahead of them.

"What had happened to her? Was it the chemical waste accident?"

Angel shook her head. "I'll never know for sure, but she was ill long before others became ill. The others at the monastery had managed to get some information from her in her most coherent moments, but nothing conclusive. It was generally felt that somehow the managers of the plant had poisoned her when she found out some information regarding the work they were doing. That was when my training at the monastery turned from a simple schooling to a way of life, and was given purpose. They began to train me to avenge my mother, and all the others that suffered a similar fate when the drinking water became poison."

They rested briefly, while Scott ate something and tried to get more energy back. He surreptitiously watched Angel as he did, wondering how anyone who had experienced so much tragedy could talk about it with so little emotion. She must have guessed what he was thinking, because she spoke again. "Part of my training was to suppress emotions. They get in the way and make you careless." She didn't mention how little thought of that training had crossed her mind when she had begun to search for Scott after the cave in.

To Scott her history just made her more interesting, but he also felt terribly sorry for her. He knew what it was like to lose a parent at a young age, but he still had had the support of a father and four younger brothers to help him through it, whereas Angel had no one. Unbidden, several questions came bubbling up in his mind, such as whether she had ever had anyone to care for her since her mother's death, how long had she been with the monks, how she was going to get revenge, and slightly inappropriately, if there was anyone else she had ever shared this story with. In the end, he settled with, "What did they train you in?"

"They trained me in the skills I would need to get revenge. In the arts of silence, tracking and defence. They also taught me how to get through locked doors, and to survive in the wilderness." That explains how she was able to get into Thunderbird 1 so easily, Scott thought to himself. "The one thing they, and I, overlooked in my training was knowledge of modern technology." Angel shook her head ruefully. "Isolated on a mountainside in Asia the modern world seems a long way away, but when actually trying to get anywhere in this world you need a grasp of science and engineering that I don't have. Hence why I have had to work with accomplices such as these to achieve my goals."

"And that someone wants to spy on International Rescue."

"Yes and I can't interfere overtly, or else I can't finish my task. I think they would probably try to remove me permanently if they knew that I was trying to stop them acquiring the information they seek."

Scott didn't ask what she meant by 'remove permanently' – he felt that it was pretty self-explanatory really. They were both suddenly disturbed by a loud beeping noise, and after momentary confusion Scott realised that it was coming from his watch.

Scott was relieved to see Virgil's face looming into view as he answered. It was grainy and full of static, but even from here he could see how pale his brother was, and strain showed clearly in his face.

"Scott! Thank god, we thought….well it doesn't matter now. Are you ok? Where are you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Scott saw Angel treading away, and he waved urgently at her before she could leave, beckoning her to stay. "I'm ok, a bit beaten up but surviving. I have no idea where I am, can you get a trace on the watch? It wasn't working before…"

"Brains has come up with a reason for that Scott, we'll let you know when we find you." Virgil disappeared from view momentarily, then reappeared with Alan whose face was filthy, but who was grinning from ear to ear. "We've got a trace Scott, seems like you're some way away from here. Gordon is coming to get you, he'll be there soon."

"Cheers Virgil," Scott replied, signing off. He looked at Angel, who was obviously about to leave. "Thank you, for saving my life." She shrugged and was about to leave when Scott called to her.

"Wait!"

He then couldn't think of anything to say, his mind still addled from the events of the day. He eventually settled on "Where can I find you?"

She shook her head and looked as though she was going to leave, but then on an impulse returned to him. "This is a terrible idea," she muttered taking a notebook out of her rucksack, scribbling something on one of the pages before ripping it out passing it to Scott. "If you can find this place, then you may find me. I don't need to tell you that if you show or tell anyone else, I won't be there." Scott nodded in understanding and she prepared to leave. "I'll need to take the torch. Will you be ok?" He nodded again, and she left down a different tunnel, removing all trace that she had been there.

Well, nearly all trace. Once she had gone Scott checked out the cut on his leg, and found the makeshift tourniquet still in place. He gently removed it, relieved to see he didn't start bleeding again, and tucked the black mask inside his shirt.


	7. Missing In Action

Back on the surface Virgil kept pressing the button that called Scott's communicator, not willing to believe that his big brother was gone. While there was a chance Scott was still alive, he would keep searching for a way to find and rescue him. Looking up he could see both Gordon and Alan, alongside local fire and rescue services, desperately trying to dig the down to Scott's last known location. He felt lost and helpless, but slowly realisation dawned that with Scott gone he was now the most senior and would need to lead his brothers through this.

He slowly walked back to mobile control, bracing himself for the call he knew he had to make but was dreading. Sitting down heavily, he opened communications.

"This is Thunderbird 2 to base, come in base."

"Virgil! Good to hear from you son. How are you getting on? Ready to head home? Wait, what's the matter?" From the other side of the screen Jeff has registered Virgil's expression, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"Hi dad….um, I don't know how to say this but…dad, Scott is gone."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line and Virgil could see the colour leaving his father's face.

"What…gone? What happened out there?"

"The tunnels collapsed…" Virgil went on to tell Jeff about the events of the day, "…and so we don't know if he is down there alive and hurt, or… not."

"You can't get any response from his communicator?"

"No. Alan and Gordon are trying to dig down now with the support of the local crews, but we as didn't bring the mole we're having to do it manually. I don't know what his chances are, but it doesn't look good."

"I'll get Brains looking at it Virgil, don't give up hope yet."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The three brothers worked tirelessly, digging to excavate the hole, trying to communicators regularly to try to call Scott and supporting each other as the day got darker and twilight came upon them. The hole was getting fairly large, but had not even begun to reach deep enough to find out if Scott was still under there. Virgil clung onto the hope that he was alive somewhere, but the nagging voice in his head said that it was increasingly unlikely. Eventually even the large flood lights weren't good enough and the boys had to stop for the night. Dragging Alan and Gordon away had been almost impossible for Virgil, especially when he himself wanted to keep digging. It took the reminder that if they couldn't see what they were doing they would likely make it worse to finally persuade the younger pair to pause in their search.

Sleep didn't come easily to any of them as they retired, bloody and bruised from all the manual labour to Thunderbird 2. It was unspoken agreement between the brothers that no one would touch Thunderbird 1 so that it remained as Scott had left it.

In the small hours, when Gordon's snores could finally be heard reverberating around the aircraft, Virgil stole outside into the warm California night, and approached mobile control. Sitting in his brother's seat, he looked at the panel in front of him that Scott was so familiar with and he broke down into raking sobs. All day he had held it together for his brothers' sake, portraying the calm exterior that Scott was known for, but now he wept freely.

The fact that the cave in was likely to have been caused deliberately enraged him. The police had informed him earlier that they had chased a car from the scene and although at the time this fact had barely registered now it hit home. Whoever was in that car had lured them here, caused the collapse in the mine and now tried to murder his brother – and maybe succeeded. That the car had crashed into a ravine during the police chase killing those on board was irrelevant – in some ways he was only angrier because it meant that he couldn't face them himself. In his grief and anger he began pounding on the controls on mobile control before collapsing in a sobbing pile, his head in his hands. He stayed like this for a while, until a voice saying his name made him look up again to find the speaker.

There was no one nearby, and he had begun to think he had imagined it when he heard it again. "Down here, Virgil." He looked down to see John's face on the videscreen, paler than usually and also showing signs of recent grief. "I think you called me when you decided to take it out on mobile control. Feel better?" Virgil couldn't help but smile weakly at John's attempt at humour, although he could see that his older brother was just trying to diffuse Virgil's mood. "Is there any news?" John asked, more seriously.

"No, nothing. I couldn't sleep…"

"Me neither." The brothers sat in silence for a while, until John spoke up again. "I hate being up here, useless, while one of you is hurt. I can't do anything to help, and you don't even need me to transfer messages! Scott could be badly injured or worse, and I can't do a thing to help!" The anger in his voice roused Virgil, and made him realise how affected John was by the events of the past day. John was normally the voice of calm, a reserved and quiet man even when they were faced with the most dangerous missions. For him to lose control showed how deeply he felt Scott's loss, which wasn't so surprising given he was even closer to Scott than Virgil was and the loss of their eldest brother would hit him particularly hard.

Suddenly both brothers were distracted by the sound of their communicators beeping.

"This is base to mobile control and Thunderbird 5, come in boys."

"We're here, father," his sons called in stereo.

"Boys, Brains has been looking at the topography of the area. We think we may have some hope." Jeff Tracy appeared just as tired and strained as his sons, and both he and Brains hadn't rested since the collapse that had trapped Scott. While Virgil and John waited, Brains came into view on the monitor.

"I-I've been looking at some old maps of the area. It would s-seem there have been several mines there over the years and the current network is built above the others as different ores have b-been. There is a p-possibility that if the tunnels collapsed Scott could have fallen through to the older mine system."

"So he could be alive!" The hope was evident in Virgil's voice, as he had begun to give up after many hours of fruitless searching.

"Now boys, it's just a possibility," cautioned his father. "There's no guarantee that Scott did fall through to the older mine system, but it's just possible he may still be alive down there somewhere."

"But if he was, why wouldn't he contact us with his watch?" John asked, frowning into the camera.

"I have a theory for that too," Brains replied. "I think the mineral ore in the g-ground is the reason. The small magnetic fields generated by the metals, particularly iron, would block the signal from the watch passing through unless he was c-close to the surface."

"Of course," Virgil cried. "When I did speak to him on his watch during the mission to rescue the miners, the picture was terrible and he was very faint. That must explain it!"

"Now don't get too excited boys, but keep in touch Virgil. I want to know everything that is happening."

"F.A.B. father. Talk to you later, John." Virgil left mobile control, and went back to Thunderbird 2. When he got there, he found both Alan and Gordon had woken up during the period he had been outside. They were sitting together, neither saying much but keeping each other company while they waited for it to get light enough to resume the search. Quickly bringing them up to speed with the discussion he'd just had with his father, he sat up with them until the darkness began to pale and they were able to continue searching for their missing brother.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

They spent hours that day moving earth, rocks and debris trying to reach the tunnel system they hoped still existed underneath the rubble. The day was hot, and the conditions were difficult, but it didn't stop them trying desperately to reach their brother. The support they received from the other rescue teams was immense – the call had gone out that a member of International Rescue was trapped underground and tens of crews had turned up at the scene determined to do everything possible to help. It was an indication of the popularity of International Rescue as an organisation, and of the gratitude that everyone there felt towards the boys who had worked so tirelessly saving lives around the world.

By midday they had shifted a lot more rubble but still had found no sign of Scott. Virgil was trying to tell himself that it was a good thing, that no Scott meant no body. It was his turn to man mobile control as the brothers were taking it in turns to try to contact Scott's communicator throughout the day. He was just about to go and relieve Gordon after one last try of the device when mobile control responded in a way he had been hoping for but hadn't dared to believe. It was receiving a faint signal from Scott's communicator. It soon flickered and died, but Virgil immediately called again and again. He kept calling, and was eventually rewarded with a grainy, indistinct image of a face he wasn't sure he'd ever see again.

"Scott! Thank god, we thought….well it doesn't matter. Are you ok? Where are you?"

Even though the image was grainy and indistinct Virgil could see that his brother looked pale and when he spoke the transmission broke up, but Virgil could just about decipher what he said. "I'm ok, a bit beaten up but surviving. I have no idea where I am, can you get a trace on the watch? It wasn't working before…"

"Brains has come up with a reason for that Scott, we'll let you know when we find you." Virgil quickly stood up and called Alan. "Alan! It's Scott, he's alive! I need you to get me a trace on his watch! Gordon, take one of the cars and head on the bearing, do you have the map of the mine system Brains gave us?" His younger brothers whooped with joy, and both sprinted in opposite directions. Alan made it quickly to mobile control, and between him and Virgil they soon had the location of Scott's watch pinpointed. "We've got a trace Scott, seems like you're some way away from here. Gordon is coming to get you, he'll be there soon."

"Cheers, Virgil." Scott's image disappeared off their screens, but they still had his location tracked on the monitor.

"Look, he's near one of the old entrances into the mines." Alan said, as he and Virgil studied the map they'd been sent by Brains. He quickly related the coordinates to Gordon, who was heading for Scott as quickly as the jeep he had borrowed from one of the rescue teams would carry him. Meanwhile, Virgil radioed base to fill them in on the good news. John had been listening to the radio messages already, and so didn't need to be told that they'd found his brother alive, but he came on the line after Virgil signed off from his very relieved father.

"Did you get an idea of what state he's in?"

"No idea John, though he looked quite beaten up. How he got all the way over there I don't know, but we have to be thankful he did. If he got lost in the mines we would never have found him!"

"Guess someone up high was looking after our little brother today. I'll get off the airways now, but if you need anything call. I'll be listening." At that John disappeared, leaving a momentary lull, which didn't last for long as the radio came to life again, this time Gordon.

"I'm at the entrance now Virgil, just about to go in. Boy, is it dark in here, I wouldn't like to be down here for any length of time."

"Let's hope you don't have to be. When you find Scott get in touch again."

"F.A.B. Virgil." The next silence seemed to go on forever, although in reality it can't have been for more than a couple of minutes before Gordon called again. His transmission was grainy and indistinct, proving Brains's theory about the ore content of the rock affecting the signal. "I've got him Virgil. He doesn't look all too good. Can you bring '2 over here so we can get him straight into sickbay?"

"Sure thing, Gordon." Virgil signed off and looked at Alan, his worried expression mirrored in that on his little brother's face. "Will you be ok to pack up mobile control? You'll probably have to fly Thunderbird 1 back too."

"No problem, Virgil. You go look after our big brother, I'll take good care of his baby."

With that, Virgil moved quickly to where Thunderbird 2 was waiting, losing no time in becoming airborne. Once he arrived next to the small jeep at the edge of the mine he didn't have to wait long until Gordon came out, supporting their brother. In the afternoon light his injuries looked even worse – he had bruises all over him, and a nasty looking cut on his forehead. He also was favouring one leg and looked pained and tired. When he saw Virgil though, he gave him a small smile and a wave.

"I'm glad to see the ambulance has arrived. What took you so long?"

"Well if you do insist on going caving by yourself…" Virgil joked, looking closely at his older brother. "What happened down there?"

"I'll tell you later," Scott replied. "I'd like to just get back home now."

"No way!" Gordon exclaimed. "You've got to get to a hospital!" But despite all their badgering, neither brother could get Scott to agree to being checked up at a hospital. He insisted it looked worse than it was, and that he'd be perfectly fine going home and being cared for in the sickbay for a couple of days. Giving up, Virgil installed him in Thunderbird 2 and took off for home, noting Alan carefully manoeuvring the other aircraft into the air at the same time. The Tracy boys, reunited at last, headed home in convoy with their lost brother safely on board again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The red SUV lay upside down in a small ravine, leaking engine oil into the small stream that ran along the base of it. When it had fallen from the side of the road, the police had decided that no one could have survived and had gone back to the mines to help search for the missing man. A crane was due to come and retrieve it the next day so that they could forensically inspect in to see if there was anything to find about the spy.

As night fell, the alloy wheels gleamed in the moonlight and a small rodent scurried up to it, investigating whether there was food in this stranger in its environment. It fled quickly as a dark shape moved closer, treading almost silently across the rocks along the bottom of the creek. This shape materialised into a person, who looked within the car and then searched around briefly before finding something of interest on the ground.

Angel stood up and stared at the moon above her. The car had been empty, the police were wrong and the driver had survived. Judging from the trail they had left as they moved up the gully they were wounded, but very much alive. This was problematic – she knew it was likely that they would try again when they realised their attempt to gain information about International Rescue had failed, but the one thing she was sure of was that she would have no more part in it. She couldn't after today. Instead, she was going to head back to England and try to find out the identity of the next person on her list, the only one of the managers of the chemical factory left unpunished. He was elusive, but he would be found. They all were found eventually.


	8. Recovery

Scott spent the next two days in the sickbay recovering from his ordeal. As well as the obvious cuts and bruises he required stitches in his head and leg and was also suffering from hypothermia. He was never alone in the sick bed though – he had a constant stream of visitors who all seemed to be trying to make up for a day without him. He was even visited by John, whom Alan had relieved a couple of days early on Thunderbird 5 so that he could come and support his older brother and keep him company.

The second night after he arrived back, he lay awake staring out the window at the stars that shone so brightly on Tracy Island and found his mind wandering to thought of Angel. That she had saved his life he was in no doubt, she had managed to tend his wounds and led him back to safety. But more, he couldn't tell. Why had she gone to find him in the first place? Why did she tell him her life story? And why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a black slip of fabric. Tucked inside was a small piece of paper and although he couldn't read it in the starlight he knew it had a simple address scribbled on it in pencil, an address somewhere in England that he had already managed to commit to memory. He was now faced with the dilemma of whether to go and find her, and how on Earth he would manage it. He was needed on Tracy Island, as the natural leader amongst his brothers he was a key part of the International Rescue and he was usually honoured with the task and the trust placed in him. Now for the first time he wished he didn't have such a pivotal role. There was no way his father could spare him for long but he wanted time to find her again and to find out answers to his questions.

But this brought him back to his first problem – he shouldn't go and look for her at all. She was dangerous, a trained fighter and willing to do nearly anything to exact revenge on those responsible for her mother's death. Seeing her, even for a moment, would almost certainly be disastrous. She also knew his secret; she knew he was a member of International Rescue and she could use this information against him. She probably would, if it would help her accomplish her mission.

Yet she had saved his life and he should at least express his gratitude. Scott managed to always bring the argument around to this point, to justify seeing her again. He never admitted even to himself that the idea of not seeing her again caused him an almost physical pain.

Eventually he slept, the mask tucked underneath his pillow again where it was safe from the prying eyes of his family, the small scrap of paper screwed up tightly in his fist as though he was afraid that someone may try to steal it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning Scott was rudely awoken by John throwing a set of pages down onto the edge of the bed.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

"Morning…" Scott replied groggily. "What is this?" He picked up the bundle and realised he was looking at another of John's astronomical papers. "A study of atmospheric light on the PS-2043 binary star system…you know just how to excite a guy, don't you?"

"I forget how funny you can be first thing in the morning," murmured John, taking a sip of coffee. "It's what I've been working on for the last month or so, and it is at least slightly more productive than Alan's love letters. I'm hoping to submit it to review during the next convention for interstellar radiography, and I want to check it sounds alright."

"Isn't Brains much better placed to read it than I am?"

"He starts making corrections on the theory…you just check for grammar and spelling. Believe me that makes you a better critic!" Scott couldn't help but smile, John and Brains occasionally had very quiet but intense arguments about the astronomical studies that John carried out when up on the space station. This meant that Scott was often the one to read John's papers, even though he had to admit he didn't have a clue what his brother was talking about most of the time. He started to read through the work, becoming so absorbed in his task that he didn't hear John speaking to him at first. He looked up blearily from where he was looking through some of the complex calculations John had added.

"Earth to Scotty."

"What is it?"

"I said, something is bothering you, Scott. And I think it's more than just the collapse at the mine."

"What gives you that impression?"

John shrugged. "I'm your brother, I'm meant to notice when you are unhappy about something."

Scott rubbed a hand over his eyes, passing the paper back to John. "That looks fine to me, good luck on the submission. And as for the rest, I'm just pretty tired at the moment. I guess I need a break or something."

John didn't look convinced but he nodded slowly. "Maybe you should take some leave for a while. I'm sure the three of us can cover anything that may come up, especially now that the spy won't be bothering us again."

"That may be a good idea," Scott smiled. "I may go visit Lady Penelope, she suggested I could go and stay before but dad said I couldn't be spared. I'll talk to him about it later, he may change his mind now that the situation with the cameras is all finished. Now, before you go you need to tell me more about Alan's love letters!"

John burst out laughing. "Well, he seems to spend most of his time up there writing them, and then forgets that he has to take them home with him if I'm not going to see them! There was this one….."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Jeff agreed emphatically with Scott's idea of paying a visit to Lady Penelope, and contacted her soon afterwards to arrange a visit for his son. Tintin was still due to stay with the aristocrat for a little longer and Penelope was delighted that Scott was able to join them both for the remainder.

"My only regret is that I have some business to attend to in London for a few days after Tintin leaves. You're welcome to join me Scott, but you may find it all rather tedious I am afraid."

Scott, finally released from the sickroom and leaning against the table in his father's study waved a hand at her. "Oh no need to worry Penny. If I could just borrow a car I'd be happy – I'd love to take the opportunity of exploring England a little while I'm over there."

"Oh what a lovely idea Scott! I'm really rather sorry I cannot accompany you now, as that sounds delightful. I'll look forward to receiving you then, in three days' time?"

"Certainly Penny, thank you for letting me come and stay."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all. See you Wednesday evening Scott. Good bye, Jeff."

When she had disappeared Jeff turned to Scott. "It is very good of Penny to have you to stay for a while, and it will do you good to have a break. You've been working too hard."

"Look who's talking!" But Scott smiled as he knew he had been working hard, and even without an ulterior motive would have appreciated a vacation. But to be in the same country as Angel, with some free time to search for her and a means of transport to do it, was an unexpected bonus that he hadn't expected but wasn't going to turn down. At that moment, Virgil stuck his head around the door of Jeff's study.

"Hey Scott, how are you feeling? Gordon and I are just heading to the pool and wandered if you wanted to join us. Not to swim, but just to get some fresh air."

"Sure," Scott shrugged, and followed his brother out. "I'm a bit fed up of being stuck inside really. That sickbay feels very small very quickly." Gordon was already in the water, and John had also come to sit and read at the water's edge. He was busy scribbling away in his notebook, but looked up when Scott and Virgil drew closer. Virgil helped Scott into a chair tucked in the shade and made sure he had everything he needed before joining Gordon in the pool. John studied Scott as he settled himself into the lounger.

"You seem happier now."

I've just been invited to Penny's for a while, and I have to say I'm looking forward to it." John said nothing, but gave his brother a long look. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I've never seen you so happy about a trip to Penny's before though."

Scott was stopped from replying by a yell from Gordon in the pool. "Virgil, pay attention!" The boys were playing some form of catch using a giant beach ball, but the brunette had obviously been distracted and the ball had shot straight past him. With a scowl he swum over to the side where Scott and John were sitting to retrieve it. When he's thrown the ball back to Gordon and seemed involved in the game again, John continued.

"She's a very beautiful woman, no one could blame you for having an ulterior motive."

Scott spluttered on a sip of water he was just taking. "I don't think of Lade Penelope like that! Besides, she lives in England and has work to do there; we live out here on Island paradise with an important job of our own."

John surmised from Scott's reply that he had indeed given it thought, and apparently in great depth. Maybe there was something going on after all. He was prevented from saying anymore by a large beach ball landing on the table between them, sending the jug of water sitting on it flying and soaking John's book. "Hey!"

Gordon didn't seem particularly apologetic. "Hey Virgil, pay more attention! It's not my fault he was so busy daydreaming he didn't catch the ball, guys!"

John, swearing under his breath, started to pack up his notebook with all the loose papers he was carting around. He headed back inside to try to remember what he had written. Virgil also climbed out of the pool to follow his brother back inside the house, an unreadable expression on his face. "Hey, what's up with him?" Gordon cried, swimming over to where Scott was sitting.

"You've probably upset him Gord – you know Virgil is more sensitive than the rest of us sometimes."

Grumbling Gordon pulled himself out of the pool and sat on the edge with his legs dangling in the water. "I didn't mean to upset him."

"I know that, but maybe you should go and make sure he does?"

Gordon stalked off, leaving Scott sat alone beside the pool. "So much for joining them all outside," he thought aloud, but was content to just sit and look at the sun playing on the blue water. It was warm and comfortable and eventually he fell asleep, lazing in the sunshine.

When he woke up the sun was setting on the edge of the sea, and the heat of the day had cooled into a pleasant warmth. He sat and watched the sun until it passed beneath the horizon, flashing red just before it disappeared entirely. He then got up and stretched, feeling very stiff from the after effects of the bruises and sitting still too long.

Moving into the house, he could hear by the angry notes of the piano that Virgil's mood hadn't improved. If anything, it seemed to have worsened in the meantime. He shot a quizzical look at Gordon, who was sat watching television in Jeff's study.

"You can't blame me for this. He's upset because father has asked John to take you to Lady Penelope's in Thunderbird 1, and she has extended the invitation to him until Tintin leaves to save him making two journeys. I think Virgil wanted to visit himself – you know how he loves looking around her manor. I think it's all the paintings."

Scott nodded, beginning to see the root of Virgil's irritation. His middle brother did like visiting England, but given that John spent half his life on the space station it wasn't so surprising that their father had allowed him to take a short trip. He found John sat at the chess table and soon joined him to play a game. He passed the evening quietly in this manner, and eventually Virgil's playing subsided into more normal tones, suggesting he was getting over his anger.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next couple of days Scott spent packing for his visit to England. Virgil had taken his stitches out and being young and in good shape he felt much better although some more time convalescing wouldn't do him any harm. Virgil's mood seemed to have improved significantly as time wore on, partly driven by the improvement in Scott who was literally bouncing around the Island with anticipation. If anyone had asked him, no doubt his answer would have been that his good mood was due to his upcoming visit to his good friend Lady Penelope. Nothing at all to do with the possibility of finding Angel again in the green and pleasant land.


	9. Relaxation and Recuperation

Thunderbird 1 made short work of the distance to England – it could circumnavigate the world in a few hours, so to travel halfway across it took a fraction of the time it took on a commercial jet, even one of the new state of the art Fireflash designs. John was piloting for a change as Scott was still not flight worthy after the mild concussion he'd sustained and besides, it was good for John to get used to Thunderbird 1 as he would be the one to fly it while Scott was away. The ride was not the smoothest either of them could wish for, but they made it to Penny's without too many issues. Neither Scott nor the small welcoming party watching from the driveway would dream of mentioning out loud that the landing on the specially designed truckbed was bumpier than usual.

Scott and John climbed down to meet their hostess and friend – both Penelope and Tintin were there wearing pretty summer dresses, as was Parker in his usual suit. As the girls greeted the Tracy boys warmly, Parker hopped into the truck and reversed both it and Thunderbird 1 into a barn that resembled a very posh set of stables that Penelope had built specifically for the task. Next to it stood a much larger barn, ostensibly a hay shed, where Thunderbird 2 was deposited if Virgil was required to bring her over. It allowed the Tracy Island inhabitants to visit quickly whilst remaining on call in case of emergency and both buildings were fitted with rudimentary refuelling and repair equipment.

Both Tintin and Penelope were shocked by Scott's appearance when he hopped down from Thunderbird 1 and walked closer. Although he now physically felt much better, the bruises on his face had faded to an ugly yellow and his normally chiselled features were marked by the swelling that hadn't quite subsided. Tintin fussed around him while Penelope took his hand gently and squeezed.

"Are you quite well, my dear? You look even worse than you did on camera."

"Gee thanks Penny, you sure know how to flatter a man. I'm fine, much better now than I was, just in need of some R&R!"

John laughed at his older brother, "Maybe I should get injured, if this is the attention we can expect when we pick up a few bruises in the line of duty!"

"You may laugh, but Scott was hurt badly," Tintin replied seriously. "I don't think any of you should be aiming to get injured, it happens too often without."

"Very true my dear," Penelope chipped in, finally releasing Scott's hand much to his relief. "Now, why don't we all move into the garden where I've asked Parker to bring us some tea?"

"Sounds great," Scott and John both chimed, and they followed the lady as she led them through her gigantic house to the back garden, where a small table with four chairs had been set up on a small lawn near some climbing roses. The boys sat down happily, looking around at their environment.

"It sure is swell of you to invite us both for a few days, Penny. Your home is so pretty, it belongs in one Virgil's paintings." As he spoke John leaned back to take in the vista. In front of them lawns spread out, intertwined with small paths that crisscrossed in an apparently arbitrary manner, but which were likely to have been meticulously planned. At the edge of the lawns, trees rose up to frame the garden, with the South Downs rising behind them again to add wildness to the view. To the side of the house that they were currently sitting, formal gardens spread before giving way to a vegetable garden for the kitchens, whereas to the other there was a tennis court laid out, with something that looked suspiciously like a swimming pool on the far side.

"Why thank you, John. I am rather proud of it, and having so many spare rooms makes it so convenient to host visitors."

At that moment Parker arrived with the tea, and Penelope busied herself with pouring tea for all her guests, while John and Scott smirked at each other. They both had been for tea with Penny often enough to know that tea making was a ritualised, formal affair with strict adherence to specific social codes when she was in charge. To accompany tea a picture-perfect sponge cake was also brought out and delicately sliced by the lady of the house before being distributed on small china plates that matched the tea set.

All conversation was halted while all four members of the tea party sat eating their cake whilst sipping slowly at the tea. Eventually Scott broke the silence.

"And you tell me it is always raining here Penny! I don't believe a word of it, what beautiful weather this is."

"We have been very lucky in the weather recently – I think Tintin must have brought some of your tropical sunshine with her! I really don't think it has rained for more than a few hours while she has been here, although I think that perhaps the gardeners are waiting for her to leave so they can stop watering all the plants on a daily basis. Not to mention how relieved I'll be when they stop spending every day trying to catch a glimpse of her and return to work!"

Tintin blushed before asking Scott how his brothers were, not mentioning Alan specifically but everyone present was aware who she was wanting to hear about.

"They're all great, Tintin. Virgil was a bit put out that he couldn't come and sample Penny's hospitality himself but he seems to have gotten over it. Alan was in good spirits when he went up to '5." Then, remembering the conversation he had with John regarding Alan's letter writing pastimes on the space station couldn't resist adding "If you're lucky he may write you a letter while he's up there."

Tintin looked confused at this as she had never in her memory received a letter from Alan, whereas John snorted on a mouthful of tea causing him to choke loudly. Getting up to pat him on the back, Scott tried hard not to dissolve into laughter at the expression on his brother's face.

"I can see that we aren't going to get much sense out of them for now," Penny commented, turning to Tintin. "May I suggest we retire for a while, to let them unpack and settle down a bit before we sit down for dinner? I believe cook is going to create a classic beef wellington, to try to educate our American visitors about British cuisine." She shot a glare at the Tracy boys, who were doing their best to wear angelic expressions. "Honestly, I'd expect this kind of behaviour from Gordon or Alan, but you two normally have more sense!" Her smile and tone belied the words; she was pleased to see how relaxed they were. Scott and John didn't get to spend a lot of time together and it was easy to forget what good friends they were underneath the serious façade of International Rescue operatives. She also hadn't seen Scott in quite such a playful mood before, which pleased her. She secretly hoped that an enjoyable visit to the Creighton manor this time may persuade him to return more frequently in the future.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dinner gave them all an opportunity to catch up on each other's news, and the main topic of conversation was the rescue at the mine that had nearly had such tragic consequences. Scott hadn't been asked about his ordeal before as his father had warned his brothers not to ask him about it before he was ready and Scott hadn't brought it up himself. So he was slightly unprepared when Penelope said directly:

"How did you manage to get out of the mines, Scott? I think Brains mentioned that it was statistically nearly impossible for you to have found your way to a place where your brothers communicate with you and find you. Let alone the state you must have been in." She tactfully didn't comment on the state he was still in – Lady Penelope was nothing if not diplomatic.

Scott slowly ate a mouthful of an apple pie that had appeared at dessert, while he tried to think of how to answer the question without actually lying to his friends. He knew he couldn't tell them the truth, as it would raise more questions than it answered. "I don't really know, Penny. I knew that if I didn't try to find a way out then there was no hope for me and that kept me going somehow." He paused to take another piece of pie, noticing as he did that he had everyone's rapt attention. "I don't know how I found my way out, but somehow the choices I made were the right ones."

"I think an angel must have been watching over you." Tintin was more spiritual than the other Tracy Island residents, part of her upbringing with Kyrano, and firmly believed that some guardian force watched over the Tracy boys. It was her way of coping with the fact that the people she cared about most were often in grave danger and gave her some solace when they were away on missions.

Scott spluttered on the mouthful of pie he was eating. "An Angel. Yes, that must be it Tintin, I was guided by an Angel."

John was puzzled by the answer – he knew Scott was a confirmed sceptic on most of the spirituality Tintin quoted around the Island, but figured that a near death experience could change anyone's mind. Penelope was just relieved he was unhurt, and very thankful that he had been found however he may have got there.

The conversation turned then to their plans for the next few days, and Penelope suggested several activities they could do to make the most of the sunny weather. Soon they had arranged to picnic in some of the woods that lay at the back of the manor, they were just finalising details when Penelope realised that her American visitors were flagging – although Thunderbird 1 could take them around the world very quickly, it couldn't eradicate the jetlag they felt when doing it. She called an end to their discussions and packed her guests off to bed, before sitting down and listening to some music in the library until she was ready to retire.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The only thing predictable about British weather is its unpredictability, and the next morning the party awoke to the drum of raindrops on the manor roof. John woke early and after making a couple of cups of coffee went in search of his older brother. He found him standing in the upstairs hall, staring out the windows gloomily watching the grey clouds that covered the countryside. The beautiful view they had seen the day before of the South Downs was now completely hidden by low cloud, the whole atmosphere changing overnight.

"I managed to find some proper coffee hiding at the back of a cupboard in the kitchen, I thought you might appreciate something a bit stronger than Penny's morning cup of Earl Grey. I think I may have terrorised the kitchen staff by accident though, they were scarier than Grandma!"

Scott snorted as took the mug gratefully. "A jet-lagged Tracy without coffee would be enough to terrorise anybody." He continued to stare out the window. "I guess this is the rain England is famous for. I guess we won't be picnicking today."

"Well it's your fault for mentioning it last night, and even you can't control the weather! Come on, let's go see what back-up plan Penelope has in store for us."

The brothers found the girls on one of the many sitting rooms around the house, demurely drinking tea while making alternative plans for the day. When Penelope saw the Tracy's lurking in the entrance she flashed them a beaming smile.

"Good morning! Are you feeling more alive today?"

"Much better thanks Penny," and Scott slipped into one of the free chairs facing the girls. John took the other, declining a cup of tea before taking a loud slurp of his coffee.

Penny looked disapprovingly at her guests. "I see you've found the tar that Parker keeps hidden away in the kitchen. It really isn't very good for you, you know. You had much better drink a civilized cup of tea."

"Ah but Penny, we're American savages," Scott grinned back. "You can take an American from their country, but you can't take their coffee." And with that he took a large draft from his mug before leaning back with a contented smile on his face. "Ah, sweet caffeine," John mimicked, and the two Americans lounged back in their chairs, in sharp contrast to the neat and tidy women.

Choosing to ignore their antics, Penelope adopted her businesslike voice.

"Obviously, rain has 'stopped play' today, to use a cricketing analogy. However, Tintin and I have come up with a new plan that isn't quite as satisfactory as the original, but which will help to soften the blow." Seeing she now had the attention of both boys, who had sat up in the chairs to lean forward and listened, she grinned mischievously. "I propose that we have an indoor picnic!"

And so they did. Sitting on a blanket in the large conservatory that Penelope usually used as a garden room, the group had a picnic in every way resembling the planned version except for the location. Parker, popping in once with some paperwork that Penelope needed to sign managed to resist all attempts to cajole him into joining the party, but didn't quite know what to make of it all.

"H'I do not know h'what her Ladyship is doing, sitting h'on the ground like that! When there are per-feckly good chairs!"

The next couple of days passed in similar fashion, Penelope continued to invent fun pastimes regardless of the weather and the Tracy boys were determined to enjoy themselves. Tintin had a ball, she'd enjoyed staying with Penny before but had found it all slightly formal, but she now saw with joy how the effect of the two eldest siblings helped the hostess to loosen up and get involved more. Whether one had a greater effect than the other she wouldn't have dared to say. But she watched with interest how Penelope's smile was just a bit brighter towards one, and her eyes lingered a just little longer on one of the brothers than the other.

When the time came for Tintin and John to head home the mood of the party became much more forlorn. Scott was the notable exception as he did not seem to mind the upcoming separation much, if anything he appeared to be excited about it. This may have pleased the hostess in a small way, but it couldn't raise her spirits completely as she would miss Tintin's company a lot. She also knew she had to spend a few days in London on business, and wasn't looking forward to it – she had several visits to make on behalf of Tracy Industries and while she was happy to work in this capacity for Jeff, she didn't take much pleasure from it.

Parker, Scott and Penelope stood together waving goodbye as Thunderbird 1 roared into life, the jet motors making short work of the launch which was far smoother than the landing. It spun in the air before roaring off towards home, very soon it had disappeared into the low cloud and out of sight.

"He'd better look after my girl," Scott murmured, staring into the sky once the sound of the rocket engines had at last died away.

"You know he will," replied Penny, laying her hand on his arm. "Now, I have to leave almost immediately for London, I'm afraid. I can't persuade you to join me?"

"No thank you Penny, I'm content with taking your small car on a road trip for a few days."

"Are you sure you will be alright? I can lend you Parker and the Rolls, he knows most of the roads around here like the back of his hand, and he is an excellent tour guide."

"No, thank you." Scott said in some alarm, wanting no company in his travelling. "I just don't go with pink. The small convertible you've provided will be just fine. I'll have my watch too, if there is an emergency I can get in touch. You'll need Parker anyway in London."

"Well that's very true; I would miss Parker terribly if he went with you. Very well Scott, I'll leave you to your plans but don't hesitate to contact me if you need anything." With that Penelope stepped into the large pink Rolls Royce that Parker had brought out of the garage while they had been talking, winding down the window to call out to Scott again. "Goodbye Scott, I should be finished four days from now. If you change your mind, I've given you the address at which you can contact me. Farewell!"

The Rolls turned and wound its way along the long drive, and once it had passed out of the large wrought iron gates Scott headed into the garage himself, finding the small red car that Penny had given him the keys to earlier. He'd already stowed a small suitcase in the boot, the rest of his luggage had been sent home with John and Tintin. Now just stepped into the car before starting to wind his way down the driveway, following the route the Rolls had taken before him. He was vaguely aware that someone had shut the garage behind him and was now opening the large gates for him to pass through even though he didn't see anyone. Penelope's staff were incredibly skilled at being unobtrusive as they went about their daily chores.

Once Scott was a couple of miles clear of the manor, he pulled into a lay-by where he reached inside his jacket and pulled a small, crumpled slip of paper out. He read through the address a couple of times before replacing it inside his breast pocket and heading west.


	10. On the road again

The next morning the clouds had cleared and there was a slight chill to the air, as Scott continued his journey west. The day before he had taken more than a few wrong turns, eventually conceding that he needed to find a small bed and breakfast to spend the night in as his electronic maps just kept dropping signal. However, that was a lucky choice as the landlord had been invaluable, he had been able to tell Scott exactly how to get to the address he had been given, as he 'grew up in that there area, din't I? It's a bit lonely mind, not many shops down that way so make sure you stock up before you go. Them moors get bleak if the mist comes in. Very easy for a man to lose his way.'

Scott had duly followed advice and now had a bag full of groceries as well as a hand drawn map to the obscure little village he was after. The old man had even known where to find the cottage, something Scott had been confused about after failing to find it on any of the maps he'd searched online, but apparently it could only be accessed on foot. 'Good job I used to do quite a bit of orienteering,' he thought to himself as he continued on his way.

He was coming to realise that the map he'd been provided with was not entirely accurate. It was true that it seemed to show him the road ahead, but the distances were entirely misrepresented, leading to several U-turns as he tried to follow the somewhat confusing directions. To add insult to injury, a particularly severe pothole had taken out one of his tyres and he had had to waste time working out where all the kit was in the small car to enable him to change it. As he got closer to his destination the landscape became more and more rural and wild; eventually all that he could see in the distance was rolling moorland. It was at around this time that the clouds began to settle down into the valleys, and he realised with alarm that he had spent most of the day trying to navigate across this strange country and had completely lost track of time. He was relieved to eventually drive into a little village and he pulled over near a small green to have a look around.

He'd rarely been to England outside of visits to Penny's mansion and he was in awe of the landscape before him. A few small cottages nestled in the foreground, with the wilderness rising on all sides surrounding them. He was in a small valley, and the single track road he'd been following was winding its way along between two small dry stone walls separating it from the moors. Periodically during his journey he'd rumbled over cattle grids, and then there had been no boundary between him and the bleakness that threatened to engulf the little car. He'd been pleased when he'd entered the village to find some sign of habitation, but now looking around at the dark huts he wasn't so sure. With the mist rolling in it didn't feel particularly inviting and other than the light pooling out from a few of the small windows there was no sign of life. It felt like the scene of an old fashioned horror movie, one of the black and white ones made more than a hundred years ago now.

Eventually he pulled himself together, 'Are you a Tracy or not!' he muttered, and approached the cottage nearest him. He could see a light shining brightly in one of the windows and hoped it meant somebody was inside. He knocked loudly on the door and a hush seemed to fall over the village. After a pause that seemed like eternity, Scott heard movement inside the cottage and the door opened a crack, a weathered face looked out at him.

"Hi," Scott started with a smile, his tone slightly faltering at the suspicious expression of the woman. "I'm a bit lost, I'm looking for this address." He held out the small piece of paper and the woman took it off him with a look of intense distrust. She was middle aged and small and was obviously very sceptical about why a tall, brash sounding American was here.

"What do you want with this place?"

He was even more put off by her tone, which combined the earlier suspicion with a level of hostility. "I'm looking for someone, a lady with brown, wavy hair and brown eyes, about this high?" He measured Angel's approximate height against him and the woman softened immediately.

"Oh, you're a friend of Angel's! Sorry to be cautious, you don't know who is about these days. This looks like her writing, so she must be expecting you. I've not known her have many friends before now, mind." The woman opened the door further, and Scott could see that she was dressed in an old fashioned knitted jumper with cats on it and a pair of jogging bottoms. Seeing him look, she shrugged. "I wasn't expecting visitors, not many people come down here, especially at this time of night."

"Can you help me get there?"

"I can, but do you really want to be heading up there now? It's very easy to get lost on the moors."

"I think I need to."

"Well it's up to you, you'd struggle to find anywhere else to stay anyway around here since the old pub went a few years ago. You're nearly there, you just need to take a right at the next crossroads and follow the road until it ends. From there you have to walk across two fields, turn right again at the second stile to cross the brook and you'll see the cottage ahead of you up the valley."

Scott thanked the woman for her help, and set off to follow her directions. He found the road with no problem, and continued along it as it wound its way up another valley. It ended abruptly at a field gate and he parked up the convertible. "Guess this is as far as we can go together," he muttered to its steering wheel, then smiled to himself at his tendency to talk to machines. "My brothers would think I'm mad, but then maybe I am for coming out here at all." He grabbed a rucksack from the boot and packed it with a small amount of food and some overnight supplies. He then rooted around for a torch and headed across the fields on foot.

The mist soon disorientated him and he felt like he was walking forever but somehow he found the stile by the brook. He crossed the small bridge, really just a plank of wood with a rotten handrail, jumping off the far edge and not seeing the mud surrounding him. He cursed loudly as he landed in it and even louder when struggling to get out he found that he was stuck. With a sigh he waved goodbye to one of his shoes as he eventually freed himself and looked around to try to get his bearings. The fog was so dense here that there was no chance of him finding the cottage using eyesight alone and he was about to just start heading up the valley (or at least, what he hoped was the valley), when at that moment a figure appeared out of the mist.

"Have you made finding me a habit?"

Angel smiled at him through the gloom. "I was forewarned – Jane called to let me know that some American was looking for me and that she sent him up the footpath. She seemed to think you would get lost, but you've done pretty well to get this far." She neglected to mention that Jane had also spent a good five minutes elaborating on how handsome and polite the American had been, followed by a subsequent ten minutes of trying to find out why Angel hadn't mentioned him before.

"I think I would have struggled from this point – I was told I would see the cottage but…" Scott spread his hands wide and Angel couldn't deny he had a valid point. The fog was so dense in this valley that they could barely see their hands in front of their faces.

"Normally it is obvious but it is bad tonight, I wouldn't have found you if not for the torch. Follow me." She began to lead him up alongside the brook, and very soon Scott could see the lights in the windows of the cottage shining ahead of them. They entered through the front door and with a sigh of relief he put the rucksack down against the wall and looked around. The cottage was small, the downstairs appeared to be split into two rooms, the sitting room they were standing in and a kitchen off to one side. A mezzanine floor above the kitchen held what appeared to be the single bedroom, he could see the stairs leading to it from where he was, but couldn't see what lay up there. He forgot all that in a moment though, as he looked at the woman coming in through the door behind him.

Unlike every time he'd seen her before, this time she wasn't dressed in her black, skin tight suit. Now she was wearing a simple grey dress that hung down to her knees, underneath she was wearing bright green wellington boots in a combination that he found endearing. Her hair was the brown he'd thought from the cave, a rich chestnut brown that captured the light being produced from the one small, flickering lamp that was illuminating the room.

"You came to find me." It was a statement not a question, as she stood facing him with her arms folded across her chest and an impassive expression that turned to puzzlement as she added "and you're only wearing one shoe."

He looked down at his mud soaked sock. "I lost it in the mud. And I came to return this." He pulled a small piece of black fabric out of his pocket, opening it out to reveal a mask.

She came closer and took it off him, scrutinising it without moving away. Her nearness made him almost dizzy and he barely registered when she spoke to him next. "You came a long way just to give this back."

He couldn't think of a reply, really he was struggling to think at all. So he did the only thing that seemed to make any sense to him at that moment. He kissed her.


	11. Peace at last?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has always been one of my favourite chapters. I hope you are all enjoying it too, please feel free to comment on what you like/don’t like!

So this was what love felt like. Scott lay in the morning sun that was filtering through the small skylight, wrapped in the thick blankets that kept away the chill of the night. He didn't want to move, didn't want to open his eyes in case it had all been a dream and she wasn't there. He waited for the cold light of day to have a sobering effect, to change his mind about the emotions he thought he had felt last night, but it didn't happen. The longer he lay there the more he felt as though finally he had found what he was looking for, as though finally he was at peace.

He'd had girlfriends before although admittedly none that had lasted for long, and that was only partly due to his work with International Rescue. In reality the novelty had quickly worn off and he hadn't wanted the subsequent commitment, but he'd never been able to pull off the one-night stands that he suspected other members of his family routinely engaged in. He'd kept the relationships going for as long as he felt he could and then called it off. And there was another fact – he had always called it off, he had always remained in control. His brothers had a tendency to call him a control freak and maybe they were right. He had never been out of control in a relationship, always aware of how he felt and always the one dictating how fast things were moving.

Except now, he wasn't.

Now his entire happiness lay in the hands of someone else, in those of the woman lying beside him. Or at least, he hoped she was lying beside him. In a moment of panic he opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her still asleep, breathing evenly with the sun on her face. He reached up and adjusting the blind so that it didn't fall in her eyes before returning to his position watching her. She was beautiful. In his eyes she was perfect. She also looked softer than he'd ever seen her, last night somehow her barriers had come down and she hadn't put them back up yet. Instead of being a warrior as she had before whenever he'd met her before, last night she had just been a woman and he loved that. He loved her.

With a groan he lay back down and stared out the skylight. He loved her. How completely inappropriate. It was hard enough to have meaningful relationships with women when you were part of a secretive organisation based on a very small island, even more so when the person in question was a psychologically fragile, probably slightly deranged woman who definitely had issues. The one consoling factor he could think of was that she already knew he was in International Rescue, in fact that was pretty much the only thing she knew about him. The fact that she appeared to have fallen for him as he had for her without knowledge of his father's wealth or influence made him appreciate her even more.

Of course, Scott was making a big assumption about her feelings there but in reality he had absolutely no idea how Angel felt. It was a fact that made him incredibly nervous. Ever the enigma, all he could know is that the night before they had seemed to gravitate towards each other equally, both unable and unwilling to stop what followed. He traced the curve of her jaw tenderly, relishing the peace of the moment. Angel stirred in her sleep and he realised his movement must have woken her. Sleepily she opened her eyes and after a brief moment she seemed to realise where she was and who she was with. She sat up warily and watched him from the other side of the bed, looking like a wild animal about to flee.

They looked at each other for a while, both unsure about the other and how to react. Angel was frankly terrified. In her entire life she had never been so out of control of the situation. She had known it was foolish to give him her address but she hadn't actually thought he would follow it up. Then she had decided that even if he did she would just turn him away, point out that it was useless for him to visit her and that they were worlds apart. She was even resolved to do so when she was walking through the fog to find him, but as soon as he was standing in her house wearing only one shoe, covered in mud and making up some stupid excuse about visiting just to give back her mask all words had fled her. She had meant to send him away, reminding him that it couldn't work and instead she'd ended up kissing him. That he technically had initiated it didn't matter, she still hadn't pulled away. Even worse was that she had resignedly, no to be truthful willingly taken part in everything that had followed. And now he was here, watching her and seemingly as unsure as she was. This surprised her, as she expected that he would have a lot more experience than she did in this kind of thing – that any moment now he would be making up an excuse and running away. When it didn't happen she cleared her throat nervously.

"I'll go and put the kettle on."

Self-consciously she reached for a faded pink dressing gown and headed down the narrow staircase and into her kitchen. The tap spluttered into life and she filled the kettle before putting it on the old range cooker to boil, not hearing him come downstairs until he put his arms around her, making her jump. He tightened his grip at this, and slowly she relaxed into his arms. They stood like this for a while, standing facing the kettle as it slowly heated, Scott stooping to press his cheek against the top of her head with his mouth level with her ear. Both were so wrapped up in their thoughts that they didn't pay attention to the kettle boiling at first, but eventually its shrill whistle broke through Angel's reverie. She turned off the gas, standing still just a moment longer as she was reluctant to break the contact but eventually moving away to prepare tea.

She hunted for a second mug, eventually pulling a very dusty one from the back of a cupboard. In the meantime Scott had vanished, returning with a jar of instant coffee that he waved apologetically.

"I just can't do tea first thing in the morning."

Angel smiled at that, and somehow the tension between them that had been melting since he first threw his arms around her vanished completely. She made the hot drinks before passing one to him. They stood in her small kitchen drinking them in companionable silence for a while, before Angel spoke up at last.

"I hope you like omelettes for breakfast, I didn't really expect visitors and don't have much else."

"I brought some supplies," Scott answered nodding towards the rucksack visible through the doorway, "and there are lots more in the car. But let me make breakfast." He looked around the kitchen that was almost empty of food with a confused expression. "Where are the eggs?"

"Outside." Angel smiled cryptically, and moved towards the back door where her wellies stood. She pulled them on while Scott watched, admiring her 'wellies with dressing gown' look, before realising he had to find something for his feet.

"One of my shoes is still in the mud!"

Angel laughed, "We'll sort it out later. There are a huge pair of sandals over there." He pulled them on, and looked at them closely. They were obviously men's sandals, and he was about to open his mouth to ask when Angel pre-empted him. "The local villagers think I'm some form of charity case and donate things – though I have never before had a use for sandals that large, or jumpers for that matter." Seeing that Scott was only wearing his jeans that he'd pulled on in haste before coming downstairs she threw a large woollen jumper at him. Preparing to pull it on he saw that it was very similar to the one the lady in the village, Jane, had been wearing the previous night.

"Jane's husband died in a car accident a few years ago, and she gave me a lot of his old things. I think she couldn't bear to throw them away, but wanted them out of the house. I don't mind as that jumper has been very warm. Jane is one of the only people in that village who doesn't think that I'm either some creature to be pitied or a psychopath, something I'm very thankful for."

Dressed in oversized sandals, his muddy jeans and a large, misshapen woolly jumper with cat emblems all over it Scott Tracy cut a comical figure as he followed Angel out the back door of her cottage. It was a far cry from his usual polo shirt with blazer combination, but he found that he rather liked it. Here there was no pressure to be smart, no brothers that teased about fashion sense. Just Angel and the moorland.

Outside the cottage he saw that the late summer sun had dispersed any lingering fog from last night and for the first time he could fully appreciate the cottage's surroundings. The cottage was sat in a small garden surrounded by a stone wall, and in front the valley wound its way down to the road he'd travelled along last night. From the front of the cottage the whole valley was in clear view and he could see the brook where he'd lost his shoe last night not far away below. He could see why Angel chose the place, she would be able to see anyone coming for miles. Behind the garden wall to the rear of the cottage trees rose up forming a small woodland, which climbed until it met with the moorland that rose up on each side. It was in sharp contrast to the neat, ordered grandeur of Penelope's home and despite its many imperfections he felt that he preferred the small, rustic cottage to all the mansions of the world.

He turned his attention now to Angel, who was disappearing around the side of the cottage. Following, he found her looking in a small wooden box and as he got closer he realised it was a hen coop. She pulled out some eggs and held them up for him to see. "Breakfast!"

Angel let the hens out from the coop to run free in the garden, stealing a glance at Scott as she did so. He wasn't running away, not what she expected but she found herself pleased. She was also pleased that he had donned the ugly woollen jumper and huge sandals without a second thought and in her opinion he was more handsome than ever wearing them. She was still struggling to comprehend how much she had let her guard down with him, but she couldn't seem to help it. Her barriers that she'd spent years cultivating had collapsed the moment he'd touched her, in fact probably the moment he first spoke to her, and now she had decided that she was just going to enjoy today while it lasted. Angel wasn't fooling herself, she knew she still had work to do ahead of her and so did he – but they didn't have to do it right now.

Scott still gallantly offered to make breakfast, but it soon became woefully obvious that he didn't have a clue how to do so. After dropping one of the eggs and skidding on the spillage straight into the fridge in his eagerness to clean it up, Angel firmly took control both of the kitchen and of breakfast. Instead Scott came and stood behind her again, arms wrapped around her waist, watching while she calmly made an omelette with the eggs she had gathered.

After breakfast they went down to the car, stopping to collect Scott's vagrant shoe on the way. He shook his head woefully when he excavated it from its muddy hole, there was no way of saving it and he was just relieved he had spare clothes in the car. When they reached the convertible Angel hopped into the passenger seat and suggested they head to a nearby shop. It turned out to be a small post office, with a grey haired lady behind the counter that Angel was on first name terms with. After picking up a paper and some supplies, Angel pulled the lady aside and whispered a few words that Scott couldn't catch, and the next thing he knew he was presented with a gleaming pair of wellies to match Angel's. Armed with his new footwear they headed for home, stopping to jump in puddles on the way back through the fields to test the new acquisitions.

That evening, after Angel had attempted without much success to teach Scott how to make a lentil stew, they lay in the garden wrapped in a blanket gazing at the stars that glimmered into life as the sun past the horizon. Scott had never been particularly interested in stars before even though the view from Tracy Island was nearly unparalleled, it had always been John's thing really. Today with his arms wrapped around the woman he'd fallen in love with, listening while she pointed out constellations and explained their mythology, he found a new love of them he'd never had before. Not of the things that John found exciting, the galaxies and planet formation, but instead the stories of Orion the hunter, or Pegasus the winged horse.

After a while they fell silent, listening to the sounds rolling off the moors of distant owls and foxes, and occasionally a passing plane. Then Scott opened up to Angel, told her everything about himself, his upbringing, the death of his mother, his time in the army, the formation of International Rescue. He told her of his love for his brothers, and how despite being surrounded by loving family members on the Island he often felt alone. He knew it was probably not wise to tell her so much about himself, and certainly not about International Rescue, but he couldn't help it. In return she finished the story she told him in the caves, of how she had slowly tracked down the four men who were running the chemical plant, who murdered her mother and then were responsible for the disaster. She explained that she had found three of them, one had already died, one was the former MD and the third owned the mine in California where he had been cutting corners in order to save money. "And after the collapse when you were there he is being prosecuted for criminal negligence. Those mines were so unsafe nearly anything could have triggered a collapse…..which is why it was so idiotic to have blown them sky high. That is the cause of the large secondary collapse while you were in there."

"You didn't set the explosives?"

"No…I made the mistake of letting my 'colleague' do it. I went to retrieve the cameras and was caught in the act by one of your brothers." She stole a sidelong glance at Scott as she said this. "I would not have done anything to hurt you, you know that."

"I do," he wrapped his hands around hers. "You wouldn't have tried so hard to save me if you had wanted that. Your….colleague, for want of a better word, was he the one who died in the car chase?"

"He didn't die." Angel looked up at the stars again. "And that means he will try again. He won't know the cameras failed as they were damaged in the crash, but he escaped."

"We can take care of him, now that we know he's out there. You shouldn't worry about it anymore."

Angel wriggled around until she faced Scott. "I have to – I think he was the fourth member of the group who killed my mother."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Scott woke the next day feeling cold and damp, which was unsurprising given that he was still lying outside underneath the blanket and the rain had begun to fall. A cup of steaming coffee was pushed under his nose.

"Here, this will help."

Gratefully he took the drink and sat up. The valley appeared grey and forbidding with the dark clouds and the rain coming down. Looking at Angel, he saw that once again she was in the wellies and dressing gown combination, today with thick woolly socks poking out the top of the boots. Following his gaze, she wore a sheepish expression. "My feet were cold! Sleeping outside does that to you. I've brought some for you too."

Scott laughed while he pulled on the thick socks, followed by the boots that had miraculously appeared by his side. Standing he realised how cold it was, and grabbed the blanket to wrap around them both.

"I have put the fire on…"

"And I think I prefer this." Angel laughed and couldn't argue as Scott pulled her close, kissing her soundly while the rain poured around them. Eventually, bedraggled and cold they migrated indoors where they warmed themselves by the fire that was crackling away merrily.

The rain came down all day, but for once Scott didn't mind or complain once about English weather. He and Angel curled up on the sofa, talking much as they had the night before, or taking it in turns to read to each other from a small collection of books she kept in the cottage. Neither wanted to admit to the other that they knew it was their last full day together, as Penelope was due back from London the following day and Scott had arranged to be back at the manor to meet her.

During the afternoon while Angel was gathering some vegetables from the garden Scott was reading in her high-backed chair, sat near the fire. He was disturbed suddenly by a beeping noise and realised with surprise it must be his watch. He also found with some alarm that he wasn't wearing it and he had to run upstairs to the bedroom and rummage around to find it. Returning to his seat he answered the call with some trepidation, noticing Angel hovering in the doorway as he did so.

It was his father, calling from Tracy Island. "Hi Scott, have you heard from Penelope?"

"No father, not at all, should I have? She was going to London for a few days and I've been relaxing in the countryside." Scott was conscious that if she had called the previous day he probably wouldn't have noticed since he'd taken the watch off, but didn't mention this to his father.

"It seems she's gone missing Scott. Parker called a couple of hours ago, informed us that she had stopped at a café to meet a friend but then hadn't come out. When he went in to find her she was nowhere to be seen. He naturally called me, but it was a while before I thought to check with you."

"Oh no! What can have happened? Do you need me to go up to London?"

"No Scott, I've got John and Virgil on the case. John should be arriving anytime now with Thunderbird 1. I'll let you know if there's any news."

"Yes sir." When Jeff had gone Scott looked up at Angel, still hovering in the doorway.

"I guess we won't be needing these," she said sadly, waving the carrots she'd just pulled out of the ground.

"I need to go," Scott replied, equally as sadly. "I need to head towards London while I wait for news. Will you come with me?"

Angel considered it carefully. She knew that it was foolish to go with him but couldn't bring herself to say goodbye quite yet. She nodded and began to pack a small bag while Scott was collecting his things.

They left together in the car, a subdued affair with each lost in their own thoughts. Scott's watch beeped into life again to inform them that Virgil and John had arrived, and were helping Parker to look for Penelope. When the radio had gone silent again Angel finally spoke.

"This isn't going to work, Scott."

"What do you mean?" Scott was startled out of his reverie, unable to miss the sadness in her voice.

"We won't be able to carry on like this. I still have a job to do and you still have International Rescue."

"But you said yourself there was only one man left! When you have dealt with him, you'll be free, free to start your life again. And I can be there to help you."

Angel looked out the window at the landscape rushing past while she considered how to phrase her reply. Already they had left the moors and all she loved most behind them. "And if I do complete my task, what then? I could not come and live on your island Scott. Would your brothers want someone like me around, someone who can be ruthless and cruel?"

"Angel!"

"It's the truth, Scott. I haven't been trained to be merciful, and I can't play happy families. It just isn't in me to do that."

"But I could leave International Rescue, they don't need all of us all of the time anyway. Or, I could work with them for a part-time basis, and be with you the rest. We could make it work."

Angel remained silent, staring out the window so that Scott could not see the tear that traced down her cheek. She knew she would never ask him to leave International Rescue, knew that if he did so he would never forgive himself. Just like she could never abandon her vow to avenge her mother. They would not be able to make a life work together; she had always known that and even if he did not want to admit it she knew he would come to understand. What she hadn't known was how much it hurt for her to acknowledge it to herself. The thought of leaving him caused her almost a physical pain. She was also worried that the controlling part of his nature would try to make it work, wouldn't let it defeat him, and she couldn't have that. She needed to find a way to stop him throwing in International Rescue and following her impulsively.

She was saved from further reflection by an urgent message that came through the radio at that moment, causing Scott to go pale and speed up as he raced towards their destination. It came from his father at the base, the fear transmitting in his voice as he cried:

"Scott, you need to get there as fast as you can! They've kidnapped John!"


	12. The Search Is On

They drove throughout the day. Jeff had told them all the details over the radio shortly after he begged Scott to hurry to meet Virgil. He gave coordinates for a rural area north of London where Virgil and John had tracked Penelope to after her kidnap. Once there, they had found her tied and drugged in a deserted garage, but while they were getting her to safety a van had pulled up. Three men jumped out, overpowered John and shoved him into the back of the van before speeding away.

Virgil had been too busy supporting an unwell Penelope and hadn't been able to react quickly enough. By the time he had made her comfortable and given chase the van had disappeared. He and Parker had spent every moment since searching for it, but hadn't found it yet and John's watch wasn't responding. What made it worse was the information they'd received from Penny. The gang members who had kidnapped her originally had been questioning her about International Rescue, threatening the use of torture to get their information. Lucky the Thunderbirds had found her first but now they feared for John.

As Scott and Angel drove the night crept upon them and soon they just followed the twin beams of light from the car headlamps as they continued along the motorway towards John's last known location. Jeff kept Scott updated with all the news, not that there was much; luckily the car wasn't equipped with a videophone so he couldn't see Angel whilst calling in.

It was approaching ten o'clock when the news came through that Scott waited for and simultaneously dreaded. "They've found the van Scott, it was parked up at the edge of a large forest. Looks like they took John in to it on foot, but it's dense and hard to find them in the dark. Can you hurry there to help Virgil and Parker search?" His father then gave him the coordinates for the lay-by where the van had been found, opening communications with Virgil at the same time.

"Sure dad, I'm on my way. Virgil, my E.T.A. is approximately twenty minutes according to the navigation. Why don't you and Parker start searching, but leave your tracers on. I'll catch you up when I get there."

"F.A.B. Scott." The radio fell silent and Scott made sure it was disconnected before turning to the woman next to him.

"You once told me you were trained in tracking. Can you….is there anything you can do?"

She nodded once, she had already planned to so her mind was calculating options. "Drop me in the woods before you get as far as the layby, I'll find your brother."

"He'll be wearing a watch like mine, or he was when he was taken anyway. If you turn this small dial clockwise, it turns into a tracer and we'll be able to find you. He's about as tall as I am, but fair haired and slimmer."

Angel nodded again to show she understood and pulled a black polo neck jumper out of the small bag she'd packed at the cottage. She pulled it on carefully, making sure there was minimal skin exposed so as to not give herself away. She then slung the small bag onto her back, making sure there was no trace of her in the car. "Ready."

Scott pulled over at the side of the road to let her out. She slipped into the darkness, pausing only to wave a quick goodbye. Scott watched her go and felt something inside him pull after her, but with a sigh he accelerated again towards the lay-by. Arriving, he saw the Rolls Royce parked next to a small, beaten up white van. From the radio transmissions he knew that Penelope had been left in Thunderbird 2 well out of danger, so Virgil must have hitched a lift with Parker. Parking the small convertible next to it the pink FAB1, he climbed out and using his tracer followed the path Virgil and Parker had taken into the woods, carefully travelling off to one side to ensure he didn't search the same area twice.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Angel slipped silently through the trees at the edge of the wood, keeping the road in sight as she moved towards the layby. She immediately found faint traces that told her the direction the rescuers had gone was incorrect, that the gang had taken John a different route. She could also tell that there were three of them, carrying the young man who by all appearances had needed to be dragged. That didn't bode well, so she was concerned about the state she might find him in. She started along the trail they had left, ducking under low trees and moving regularly so that she would have been very hard to see even if it had not been as dark as it was in the wood.

She stopped suddenly, hearing footsteps moving incautiously towards her through the undergrowth. She swung up into the nearest tree, hiding herself amongst the branches as a figure passed by underneath. With a small start, she realised it was the man who had helped her cause the damage at the chemical factory. She hadn't realised at the time, but he was the fourth member of the group that had been running the ChemDeli factory in Asia when her mother was poisoned and who were responsible for the murder. He must have wanted revenge on his former friends and had arranged the ChemDeli fire and the mine collapse. At the time she had thought she was so clever, managing to arrange things to suit her own ends. Now Angel realised she had been a little too fortunate. She had only discovered this on her return to England and was sickened to think that she had been working with one of her targets without realising. Her only hope was that he hadn't realised her connection with the case as there may yet be a chance to take him down from within.

Now, seeing the same man exit the woods, she was very concerned. Chances were that if he was leaving it meant that he had the information he required and John's time was running out. She didn't know John, but she knew how important he was to Scott and that made her determined to save him if she possibly could.

Dropping back down from the tree like a cat, she pulled on her gloves with custom made claws and reached for her mask to find that she didn't have it. Cursing under her breath she crept forwards, knowing that she was near her prey when she could hear voices drifting through the forest towards her. She saw the light of a small fire and crept closer, hiding behind low shrubs to get her bearings. To her left she could see the kit that the gang members had brought, close to the remnants of the fire were a pile of bags. She shuddered at the sight of several long metal poles buried in the embers, with a terrible suspicion of what they were used for. She also saw several cans of beer lying around along with whiskey bottles and shook her head in disapproval. It was the sign of an amateur if they drank on the job – it suggested that they didn't really have the stomach for torture and were trying to distract themselves with alcohol. It could make them far more dangerous, but also gave her an opportunity. Angel slipped into the camp and rummaged through their bags until she found what she was looking for, a tranquilliser designed to be ingested which would have been used to keep John quiet on the journey through the forest. She hadn't seen any sign of a struggle and had guessed that the man had been drugged to put up so little resistance.

She carefully tipped the tranquilliser into an open bottle of whiskey lying near the fire. She couldn't risk the gangsters seeing her or they would know she was double crossing them so she needed to incapacitate them by proxy. The only way she would be able to kill their kingpin was if he thought she was still working with him to steal the secrets of International Rescue. She replaced the bottle and put the remaining tranquilliser back where she had found it, ensuring that the camp looked exactly as it did before. Then she climbed up into a nearby tree and waited, lying prone along a branch in order to see clearly what happened below. After a short time the two men came back, obviously fairly intoxicated already, and she thought wryly that perhaps she needn't have been so careful. They were both fairly short men, rough looking and unshaven. One had tattoos down both arms, the other was thin and rough looking. Angel suspected that both may have been in prison fairly recently. As she had hoped, the gaunt henchman soon picked up the whiskey, waving it in the air as he swung around to his companion before taking a large swig. His companion greedily took the bottle and gulped similarly, while the first staggered drunkenly over to the fire. He pulled on of the long metal poles out of the embers, the end glowing red hot in the darkness.

"Come on, let's finish up before someone comes!"

With that he fell forwards, toppling like a tree slowly giving in to gravity. The second man looked at him confusedly for a moment before slowly keeling over backwards, still holding on to the whiskey. Angel waited for five minutes that seemed to stretch into eternity, watching to see if either man stirred. When nothing happened she swung down, tiptoeing on a wide berth past the henchmen while she went to see what had happened to John.

He was not in a good shape. He was tied upright with his back to a large tree with his hands bound around the trunk, but he was sagging in his bonds as he fought unconsciousness, his head tipped forwards and his torso leaning down away from the tree. His blue International Rescue jumpsuit had been cut off from the waist up and lay in a pile to one side. Angel winced as she moved closer and saw the marks all over his torso, marks that must have caused a great deal of pain. She cut him down with a swipe of her hand, the metal claws slicing through the ropes like a hot knife through butter. She nearly managed to catch him, but he fell awkwardly and though she tried she missed and he landed with a crash on to the floor.

She rolled him over and looked into blue eyes that reminded her so much of Scott. Despite their different colouration there was no mistaking their familial resemblance. The fall must have jolted him awake as now he looked at her clearly, although she could smell on his breath the same tranquilliser that she'd just fed the gangsters and knew he probably wouldn't stay that way for that long. The only positive was that the tranquilizer would have numbed the worst of the pain. She lifted his torso with difficulty to move him away from the tree and the blood that pool around it.

"Are you an angel?"

It was such an unexpected question that she nearly dropped him again. "Why do you ask that?"

"Tin-Tin said that an angel helped Scott in the mine and I thought you might be here to help me now. You sure look like an angel. You're pretty."

She realised he was feverish and babbling as she checked his temperature. He'd been through a lot in the last few hours and his body was obviously beginning to give up. She knew very little about how to help him, except that she should keep him as comfortable as possible and as she pulled his blue thunderbirds shirt back around his torso she replied, "Not quite."

He drifted off again then and she left him alone for a few moments while she ran back to the remains of the fire, relieved to see that the two men were still comatose. She searched all their bags frantically but didn't find what she was after. She then turned her attention to the men and with a measure of disgust searched them too, they weren't the cleanest of men and it definitely wasn't the most pleasant task she'd ever done. Eventually she hit gold as she found the small IR watch hidden in the pockets of the tattooed man. He'd obviously kept it as a memento, something that would normally revolt her but at this point she was very relieved about.

She went back to John to find him moving and whimpering in his sleep. He didn't notice as she sat next to him and talked to him gently so she turned the button on the watch as Scott had told her to and waited, hoping that he would come soon.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Scott was beginning to lose all hope of finding John himself when suddenly his watch began picking up the signal from John. He immediately called out to his brother.

"I see it Scott! It could be a trap though."

"We're going to have to risk it Virgil, grab Parker and the kit and head towards it. I'll go directly, but keep the weapons out just in case."

"Sure Scott, keep in contact."

Although the tracer told him it wasn't far to his brother, travel through the dense forest was slow and it was some time later that he suddenly spotted a crouching form in the distance. He ran towards the shape, realising as he got closer that it was Angel set next to a figure that was lying on the ground. A figure with blond hair that was visible even in the dark forest, and that was laying completely still.

"Is he….?" Scott couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

"No, he's unconscious now but he was talking. I think he has a fever. Scott, the man who orchestrated this left here before I arrived – he obviously got whatever he was after."

Her words fell on deaf ears – Scott was sitting next to his brother, cradling his head gently. John opened his eyes a small amount, causing his older brother to smile in relief.

"You gave us a scare then John! How are you feeling?"

John was still fairly incoherent as he looked up into Scott's face. " 'malright. The angel looked after me. She still there?"

"There's no one else here John," and as he spoke Scott realised with a pang that he had spoken the truth. Angel had told him the necessary information then slipped away silently and he hadn't heard her go. He was distracted from thinking for too long about it by John letting out a low groan as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Scott sat for a long time like that, holding his brother's head in his lap while he waited for Virgil and Parker to show up, praying to whoever was listening that his brother was going to pull through this. He pulled the blue shirt that was acting like a blanket back once to look at the injuries, but was so shocked by what he saw in the torchlight that he put the shirt back down quickly, wincing when it stuck in several places. Out of all of them Virgil was the brother with the most medical training and was best equipped to deal with injuries this severe.

After what seemed an eternity he saw torchlight through the trees and could hear Virgil and Parker exclaiming over something.

"Over here!"

The two men stopped in their tracks when they saw the scene in front of them. Neither had known what to expect when they found John, but his state was alarming. Virgil ran over straight away and began doing what he could to help, while Parker called an ambulance as well as the local police. This situation was more than they could deal with themselves, John needed hospital treatment and on the way they had stumbled over two drunk criminals who needed to be handed over for justice.

The police officer who responded by their call was both dumbfounded and star struck simultaneously. He was a huge fan of International Rescue, as he kept telling Scott whilst he was meant to be taking information, but for someone to have kidnapped a member of the organisation, and on his 'patch', was a terrible blow to him. Scott tried gently to steer him towards the reason for him being there, but was actually unable to help much with the information as he had been absent for much of it. Instead he beckoned Parker over who began to fill him in on everything that had occurred since Lady Penelope disappeared, without mentioning names of course.

This allowed Scott to help Virgil and the paramedics, who were slowly weaving the hover stretcher between the trees and towards the road where an ambulance was waiting. Several more police cars had turned up and forensic teams were beginning to comb over the site, looking for evidence that would help them to find the people responsible for the abduction. The two unconscious men, after all usual attempts to rouse them failed, were unceremoniously dragged off to the police van on their backsides through the forest.

As John was loaded into the ambulance Scott climbed in beside him, he and Virgil had a quick discussion at the roadside and decided that Virgil would follow in Penelope's convertible. In the ambulance Scott stayed close to his brother and held his hand, constantly talking to him and reassuring him that he was going to be fine, that his ordeal was over. If occasionally Scott's voice broke as he looked at the terrible state his brother was in, the paramedic was too polite to mention it and John was still struggling too much with the mixture of drugs and pain to be aware of anything. Parker, once he was released from the policeman, also followed the ambulance with the FAB 1 as it made its way to the hospital. All three vehicles were given a police escort for safety, after the events of the evening the local constabulary weren't taking any chances. All in all, it led to a very strange convey travelling through the countryside as the morning light began to lift the gloom of darkness.


	13. Hospital

John was put into a hospital ward by himself which led to several disgruntled patients being shunted out of it and crammed into other parts of the hospital, but the hospital and police were not prepared to risk his security. Virgil sat with him while doctors ran checks, while Scott got on the phone to their father to tell him all that had happened in the woods. Jeff was on his way to the UK, he had taken off in a small plane with Gordon as soon as the news came in that John had been kidnapped, and was now only a couple of hours away. Parker had gone to take care of Penelope after her ordeal, but had promised to return the next day.

Scott briefed his father quickly, and gave him the coordinates for the nearest airport so that he wouldn't be held up once he had landed. Then Scott returned to John to find the doctor just about to leave.

"How is he?"

"He'll survive…" The doctor, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and round spectacles, looked closely at Scott over his clipboard. "As I was telling your other brother, John has been through a lot in the last twelve hours. We can completely heal all his physical injuries, but I think there will be other…effects that will take a lot longer. He's asleep at the moment, we've given him something that should keep him under until tomorrow morning, and after that we'll be able to discharge him. If you have somewhere quiet he can go home and rest for a while, it will probably help his recovery."

Scott nodded, "Thank you, doctor."

"No, thank you son. The work you and your colleagues do is incredible, I am just ashamed that it was in the UK that this atrocity happened." With that the doctor shook Scott's hand and left, leaving Scott in the corridor alone.

At that moment Virgil came out of the ward room. "Did you talk to the doctor?"

"Yes, he said something about John needing rest to recover, but that his physical injuries aren't too bad."

Virgil grimaced. "Define 'too bad'. He had severe burn marks all over him, Scott. Modern medicine might be able to work miracles but it was still pretty serious what he went through. We're just lucky you found him when you did or it could have been so much worse. We're also very lucky those guys decided to drink themselves to sleep before disposing of the evidence as well." The middle brother shook his head slightly almost in disbelief. "When I think of what they did to him…at least they were picked up by the police. Talking of the police, have we heard anything from them yet?"

Scott shook his head. "I imagine they'll be up in a bit, they probably don't have much to tell us yet. You should go and get some rest Virgil, you were up all night."

"So were you," but Virgil smiled as he said it. It was very difficult to stop Scott from acting as surrogate mum to his younger brothers, not even the fact that they were all now over the age of twenty could dissuade him from mothering. Virgil also knew that nothing he could say would convince Scott that he was fine, so he acquiesced and lay down across some of the seats in the corridor with his had resting on his hat.

Scott went back into the ward room and sat down next to his brother. John looked so pale lying there and he looked younger than his twenty-five years. Scott and John, as well as being only eighteen months apart in age had always been very close to each other and Scott almost couldn't bear to see his brother in this condition. John's torso had been wrapped in a foil which contained many small instruments, which was designed to heal burns quickly. It also had the unfortunate side effect of making him look like a turkey being prepared for roasting, which Scott might have found amusing if the situation hadn't been as tragic.

"Look at us John, we're a mess. You've been through hell in the last few hours, and I wasn't there to help you." Scott hid his face in his hands, partly from guilt and partly in bewilderment over the events of the last few days. That was how his father found him when he arrived with Gordon midmorning.

Jeff didn't speak on entering the room, he just came and squeezed Scott's shoulder before sitting down next to him. Gordon leant casually against the window-frame.

Eventually Jeff broke the silence. "Where's Virgil?"

"Resting – I told him to go lie down somewhere, he was up all night."

Jeff was stopped from replying by the arrival of the doctor, who had been told that the head of International Rescue was here and had come to brief him on his operative's condition. Scott slipped out, not needing to hear again about John's multiple injuries. Instead he went to find out where Virgil had managed to end up. He didn't have to look for long, Virgil had found a quiet stretch of corridor and was lying prone across several chairs, fast asleep. He was still wearing his bright blue uniform, with his cap and sash folded up neatly under his head to act as a pillow. He looked so peaceful that Scott didn't have the heart to wake him up, instead he loitered a while before going back into the ward room.

Jeff was alone in there, sat by John's head murmuring gently to his second son. When Scott entered he looked up and smiled sadly.

"They must really want to know our secrets to stoop this low – resorting to kidnap and torture! It makes me wonder what the point of it all is."

Scott moved to sit opposite his father, facing him across John's pillow. "You don't mean that. If we ever did stop operating you would believe you had failed, and not be able to live with yourself."

"But over the last couple of weeks I nearly lost you and now John, and I don't think I could face it if anything happened to the others."

Scott touched his now mostly healed bruises on his face, realising the truth of his father's words. "Once the police capture the guy responsible for this, we won't have to worry any more. We'll just be back to a normal level of danger on missions."

"I don't know Scott, we were told that the saboteur at the mines had died in a crash – what if there are several people out there who would stoop to this level?"

"They must have been wrong dad," Scott replied firmly, remembering the information Angel had given him. "There is just one person after us and when the police catch him there won't be anything else to worry about."

"I hope you're right son." Jeff Tracy rubbed his eyes tiredly. Although it was only approaching lunchtime, all the Tracy's had been up for much longer due to their stressful night. Scott couldn't stifle the large yawn, attempting to cover it with his hand but it was spotted anyway.

"Go and get some rest, Scott. You've been up as long as any of us."

"I'm alright dad, or I will be when I find some coffee."

"Go find some then. And send Gordon back in if you come across him, I don't know where the boy has gone!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Gordon, now that he had been reassured that John was in no immediate danger, had gone to scope out the hospital and Scott eventually found him chatting up a young, attractive, blond nurse in a corridor. As he approached he heard the nurse telling Gordon that she was on an exchange programme from California, and that she was still at college. Shaking his head he tapped his brother on the shoulder. "C'mon Gordon, it's your turn to go watch over John."

"Gordon?" The nurse looked confused. "I thought you said your name was George?"

"Uh, it is," replied the redhead. "George Lazenby. I'm just called Gordon when on duty, it's a secret code. Part of my former training as a secret agent, you see."

Scott left shaking his head in disbelief, but not before hearing the blond say "Wow, that is so cool." He found his way downstairs, back into the main hospital where everyone was buzzing with the news that International Rescue were in the building. Luckily Scott was still in his own clothes and so didn't get mugged by adoring fans as he headed for the coffee machine. Seeing that someone was already using it, he sat down and stared into space while waiting for it to become free.

He was startled out of his reverie when a cup of coffee was thrust under his nose and he looked up to find himself gazing into a pair of brown eyes.

He took the cup silently and squeezed Angel's hand gratefully. The woman sat down next to him on the small plastic seats and for a while they sat in silence, Scott sipping the coffee and slowly coming back to life.

"That's two of us who owe you our lives now. Soon the whole family will be indebted to you."

"I sincerely hope not." Angel looked sideways at Scott, who was still staring into his coffee cup. "How is your brother?"

The man shrugged. "We won't know until he wakes up sometime tomorrow morning. Physically he should be fine but…" The despondency in his voice touched her, and she crouched down in front of him and took his hand.

"Scott, look at me." Slowly he did so, finding himself transfixed again by the large brown eyes. "John will have a loving family there to support him, he will be ok. You need to focus on being there for each other."

Scott put down his coffee cup and took her other hand, turning her gently to face him. "I hope you're right. But what about you? Will you be there?"

"Scott…" Angel pulled away from his grasp, standing up in front of him. "We went through this. You have a job to do, and so do I."

Scott withdrew from her, not wanting to feel the truth of her words. "Why did you come here?"

"To see how your brother was," Angel hesitated slightly before adding "and to say goodbye."

Scott nodded, staring at the floor by his feet so he could avoid looking at her. He had known this was coming, knew it was the only option that made sense for both of them but it didn't make it easier. Realising that he wasn't going to say anything else, Angel gave his hand one last squeeze and walked away towards the main waiting room. When Scott finally looked up she had gone, mingling with the people who were milling around hoping for a glimpse of the famous Thunderbirds.

He couldn't dwell on it for long though, as Virgil thumped down beside him where Angel had sat moments before. "Who was that?"

"Oh, no one. Just someone else waiting for the coffee machine."

From the little Virgil had seen as he had paused by the door to watch, it hadn't just been another person in line for coffee. But if Scott was unwilling to tell him more about it, he wasn't going to push it.

Scott shook himself mentally, and stood up. "C'mon Virgil, lets grab some coffee for dad." He looked at his younger brother, and the sight of him lifted his mood for the first time that day. "What on Earth are you wearing?!"

Virgil sighed and pulled out the bottom of the garish Hawaiian shirt he was sporting to get a better look at it. "Apparently dad asked Gordon to pack spare clothes for John and I…" Virgil was wearing three-quarter length scarlet trousers to accompany the shirt and some brown sandals. The combination made him look like he had stepped straight out of a mid-2030s music festival, minus the bald head and oversized shades. "I'm going to kill him."

"If he's packed similar clothes for John you may not have to!" The second brother was meticulous about his clothing and was unlikely to appreciate Gordon's joke.

"Let's hope so, it will be a good sign that he's ok." Scott could only agree as he filled a couple more cups with coffee to take back to John's room.

Jeff was thankful for the coffee but told the boys they should head to a nearby hotel to get some sleep. "John won't wake up 'til the morning, and you've all been awake for at least 24 hours. It's time to rest."

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but his father cut him off "It's not a request, Scott. You'll all need to be alert tomorrow for the journey home, we've got a lot of aircraft to pilot back. Besides," and here he threw an irritated glance at his redhead, "someone has to go and find Virgil some sensible clothes and I'm not trusting Gordon to do it." The son in question turned away to hide a grin as Jeff continued. "I've made you a reservation at a hotel just outside the hospital grounds, you'll be able to get some food there and sleep. Then you can come back in the morning and take us home."

"Yes sir," the three boys chorused. They grabbed any possessions they had left in the room, and headed out.

When they were gone Jeff returned to his vigil by John's pillow, although it wasn't long before his head began to droop. When the nurse came to check on John again before she headed home for the evening she found Jeff asleep on the bed next to his son. Smiling, she pulled a blanket over the sleeper and left them to sleep it out overnight.


	14. Home Again

Jeff woke stiffly the next morning, his back aching from sleeping in a chair. The day was just beginning to get light and the room looked grey in the dawn. John still lay in the small bed wrapped in foil, a few monitors beeping above his head that were connected to all the different wires that were coming out from his body. Jeff was saddened to see his son like this, although when he went to check on John he was pleased to see that the fever seemed to have subsided during the night. John was sleeping normally, and had more colour in his cheeks than before. Jeff reached over and twirled his son's trademark curl round on his forehead, resting his hand there for a while. He was still seething inside that anyone would do this to his boy. Although John may now be twenty-five, to Jeff he was still the small boy who would run around dragging a miniature telescope, trying to get his father to show him how to see the stars.

At his touch, John began to stir feebly as the sleep inducing drugs began to wear off. By the time the nurse arrived, the blond Tracy was sitting in bed talking calmly with his father. Jeff had decided not to ask any questions until back at base on Tracy Island, but unfortunately the police had other ideas. As the nurse unwrapped the foil bandage to reveal that the burns had been nearly completely healed overnight, she informed the Tracys that the police had already arrived and were waiting to come and ask questions. Once John was fully awake and had been given breakfast two officers were shown into the room.

The police wanted to know John's versions of events, but he couldn't help them much. He knew very little after he had been bundled into the bag, probably due to the fact he had been drugged with a powerful tranquiliser. He didn't even remember much from the period when he was tapped for information, which was probably a good thing.

The one place he could supply information was about the gang members – he was almost certain that there were three people in total and was slightly alarmed when the police informed him that only two men had been found asleep at the camp. The police in turn explained about the intoxicated men, criminals who had only just been released from prison for armed robbery and grievous bodily harm with intent. They appeared to have drunk themselves into a stupor in the woods, fortunate for John but slightly unusual. The police were waiting for toxicology reports before they could make any conclusive statements, however the two men had been remanded in custody without bail and charged with abduction amongst other things.

Neither the police nor John could supply them with any more information, so the police officers left with a promise to contact their London agent with any more information. As they exited, they almost walked straight into the other Tracy boys, coming back after their night's rest.

Virgil and Scott looked much better, the ability to shave had allowed them to tidy up their appearances and Virgil had managed to get hold of a polo-shirt and jeans, although he was still sporting the sandals. Scott had also managed to grab a change of clothes out of the satchel and was dressed in his favourite blue shirt/blue blazer combination. As they entered they were relieved to see John up and looking much better than he had. Scott put a bag of clothes on the bottom of the bed before moving over to the window to make space for the others.

"I thought you may want something to wear other than your uniform!"

Gordon looked offended at this, "Hey, I brought him a full change of clothes from the Island!"

"I was judging against what you brought Virgil – I didn't think John would have appreciated the latest and greatest in garish shirts."

"I definitely wouldn't," John replied, looking through the bag Scott had brought and pulling out a white high neck jumper and a pair of bottle green trousers. "These are great, thanks Scott."

"What did the police want father?" Virgil asked, sitting on the bottom of John's bed.

"They wanted all the information John had on what happened that night."

All three boys looked expectantly at John.

"Really, I don't remember much about it. I know there were three people there at some point, but that's about all the police didn't know already." Here John hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "I think…I think they were asking me about IR. I also think I might have told them our identities." John was obviously dejected as he said this, his head bowed and his hands clasped together fretfully. "I'm so sorry dad."

Jeff Tracy squeezed his son's shoulder tenderly. "It doesn't matter son, I'm just relieved you're alive. If your brothers hadn't got to you in time then you might not have been."

"Yeah thanks guys," John looked around at his brothers, and couldn't quite stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Scott took a sudden interest in the hospital car park out the window and Virgil and Gordon sat playing thumb wars while Jeff handed John a tissue and pretended not to notice.

The nurse re-entered at that moment, slightly surprised to find so many people in the room. "If the police are finished you are free to leave, but mind you take it easy for a few days."

"Don't worry ma'am, we'll make sure he gets some rest."

The nurse blushed at being called ma'am by the handsome gentleman who was obviously in charge of International Rescue. "Well, don't sit in the sun too much, if you're going back to somewhere where there is sun." She cast a longing glance out the window as she said this. The day in England was grey and drizzly, exactly the opposite of the usual Tracy Island weather and all the boys were very tanned as the result.

The nurse left after making a few final checks, and the Tracys packed to leave. It was soon arranged that John would travel with Virgil in Thunderbird 2, Scott would pilot Thunderbird 1 and Jeff would take Gordon in the small plane. The Thunderbird machines had been moved to Penelope's the night before and she and Parker had turned up in FAB1 to give John a lift back. Scott would take the convertible with Virgil as far as Creighton Manor.

The convoy as they left was not quite as unusual as the one they arrived in, but FAB1 drew stares wherever it went due to its size (notwithstanding its bright pink colour). John and Penny were sat in the back while Parker chauffeured, discussing John's recent astronomical papers to take his mind off the events of the last couple of days. Penelope had some interest in astronomy and she proved to be an educated audience which kept John occupied all the way to the manor.

Virgil and Scott drove along in silence, each left to their own thoughts. Virgil, when climbing into the car, had found what appeared to be a woman's jumper lodged down the side and he didn't think it was Penelope's. This just led more weight to the idea that had been forming ever since he had seen Scott talking so intimately with a brunette in the hospital the day before. Scott was still trying to process everything that had happened. His usually calm, controlled life had taken a massive upheaval and he was still trying to work it out in his mind. He shied away from thoughts of Angel, aware that there was a pain too raw to be dealing with inside him somewhere but by compartmentalising it he could focus on the task in hand – stopping the men who would do anything to gain the secrets of International Rescue.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Travelling home was straightforward and they all arrived on the Island tired but relieved to be back. Tintin fussed over everyone but particularly John, ensuring he had everything he could possibly need to be comfortable. Scott excused himself early and managed to escape before Tintin could turn her attention to him and went out to the pool. In the middle of the Pacific it was not yet dawn, and he stood at the edge of the patio looking over the sea in the darkness. On a whim he sat down and stared upwards staring at the stars. He eventually managed to pick out Pegasus, remembering what Angel had told him about the winged horse, but couldn't find any of the other constellations they'd talked about.

"Sucks to be in the other hemisphere," he grumbled to himself, but couldn't bring himself to look away. He still couldn't think clearly about Angel, but he could lose himself staring at the stars. He was still lying like this as John came out to find him, with the intention of dragging him back for an early breakfast.

"Don't tell me that you've suddenly got an interest in stargazing!"

He lay down beside his brother. Eventually Scott rolled over to look at him.

"Are you ok?"

"No, but I will be." The blond propped himself up on his elbows, looking over the ocean as the first light of morning began to turn the sky grey. "How about you?"

Scott shrugged slightly, propping himself up to mimic John. "I'll be better once we deal with the maniac intent on destroying us."

John nodded before nudging his brother. "C'mon, Kyrano has made us some breakfast – and we'd better move quickly before the others eat it all!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A couple of days later Jeff Tracy was sat in his office, having almost recovered from the effects of jetlag but still requiring a strong cup of coffee to get his brain working. His accounts were in complete disarray after being neglected for a few days, Tintin had tried her best to help out in his absence but Jeff's unique filing system – which made no sense to anybody other than Jeff – had completely defeated her.

Jeff started trying to go through the documents but soon gave up with a sigh. He simply couldn't concentrate on his finances when he was thinking about how the person who had kidnapped John would next target them. Thinking of his son caused him to look up from his position behind his desk at the portraits on his wall, all five sons resplendent in their IR uniforms with colour coded sashes.

The youngest two, once Jeff had briefed Alan fully on everything that had occurred, seemed to take it all in their stride. He hadn't heard anything from either of them since, and judging by the pranks Gordon was busy pulling – probably with Alan's assistance even if he was stuck on a space station – Gordon hadn't been particularly affected by the whole ordeal. Jeff's mother was another matter, the whoopee cushion that Gordon had placed on her chair at dinner yesterday may have been very amusing for everyone else but Jeff didn't think she had recovered from the shock yet.

Virgil was rather more quiet than usual, but Jeff thought he was mostly picking up on the mood of his older brothers. Virgil himself didn't seem unhappy, but he'd put aside some of his more boisterous pastimes and was concentrating on helping Brains with the new update to Thunderbird 2's engines.

John and Scott were a different matter. John had obviously been through a lot and was still getting over what had happened to him, but did seem slowly to be getting there. He'd been able to throw himself back into his astronomical work which seemed to have helped, even though the views from the Island weren't as good as those from the space station. Scott had also been helping him, a rare occurrence, but he seemed to appreciate that his closest sibling needed companionship even when locking himself away with his telescope on the roundhouse roof. Scott was a bit of a mystery to Jeff at the moment, he appeared to be distracted and not quite himself. Jeff just hoped that it was because of everything that had happened and that it would wear off soon.

Putting his documents down, Jeff decided that he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on finances today. Instead he headed for the kitchen to try to find Kyrano, and was surprised when he found him in deep conversation with Scott.

"Ah Kyrano, just the person I wanted. I wondered if the plane from the mainland had arrived yet with the supplies I ordered."

"No Mr. Tracy, it is due in an hour. Would you like me to send word when it arrives?"

"That would be great, Kyrano." Jeff turned to leave, but became distracted by the state of the kitchen. "What happened here?"

Scott looked sheepish. "I was trying to make myself an omelette…I haven't quite got it right yet."

"You could say that again," Jeff murmured. There seemed to be remnants of the omelette on nearly every surface and all over the cooker top. By the looks of it more than one egg had smashed on the floor and someone, Jeff could easily guess who, had attempted to clean it up but managed to just smear egg everywhere. Scott had then gone on to use the same cloth to wipe down the table, leaving a large mess of egg and what appeared to be cheese all over it.

"I was just suggesting to Mr. Scott that I give him some lessons, Mr. Tracy."

"I think that's an excellent idea Kyrano, if he's going to start attempting to cook. I've seen him try before."

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Scott protested loudly, but got withering glances from both Kyrano and his father. Jeff raised an eyebrow and left while Kyrano turned back to Scott.

"Excuse me, Mr. Scott, but I need to clean up the kitchen so I can prepare lunch." Scott groaned as he took the cloth off Kyrano, stopping him protesting by raising a hand.

"It's my mess Kyrano, I'll sort it out."

And with Kyrano's guidance he did manage to clean it to something resembling its former state. Grandma and Tintin came and watched in amusement as he scrubbed – they had rarely seen any of the boys in the kitchen unless making a beeline for the coffee, but it usually meant trouble when they did. It took Scott three times as long as it should have done to return the kitchen to rights, although he was a bit suspicious that Kyrano was enjoying bossing him around a little too much. When he finally finished Tintin patted him on the arm sympathetically.

"You've done a wonderful job Scott, it looks lovely. Now why don't you go and rest for a bit while I help father make lunch?" Scott shot a grateful smile at Tintin, escaping towards the games room where he could hear his brothers laughing over a game of pool.

He found Virgil and Gordon in the final stages of their game, both with a good chance of winning. He sat at the small bar they had installed and watched the game for a while, soon realising the stakes had been raised by the boys betting their 'shore leave' on the result. When Gordon shot the black home and yelled in victory, Scott took the opportunity of coming up to the table putting a sympathetic hand on Virgil's back as he did so.

"You know what dad said about betting your shore leave."

"We're just trying to make it more interesting Scott," Gordon shrugged as he put his cue away. "Virgil can have his leave back if he's bothered by it."

"No you won it fair and square Gordon. Just remind me not to bet against you again!" Virgil had made a drink at the bar and was ruefully looking at the table as Gordon cleared it all away.

"You say that every time, Virge." Scott commented, leaning against the bar. Due to the possibility that they could be called for a rescue, the boys rarely drank alcohol unless on leave. The bar allowed them to mix up soft drinks, but was unluckily devoid of anything stronger.

"Well I still think my day is going better than yours Scott, by all accounts. What possessed you to try to cook?"

Scott shuffled his feet. "It's about time I learnt to cook basic things. I can't even make an omelette without destroying the kitchen…"

Jeff entered that moment, looking for the boys. "I see the kitchen is back to usual Scott, good work. Though I'd prefer it if you only tried cooking under supervision for a while, the coffee machine being inaccessible due to kitchen disasters is not good for the well-being of the island!"

The boys couldn't suppress smiles at this – Jeff Tracy in the morning without a substantial amount of coffee was a sight no one should have to see. The man in question now turned to them all. "I want a quick briefing in my office, can you all be there in five minutes?"

"Yes sir," they chorused. Gordon and Virgil left immediately, while Scott made himself another drink before following his father up to the office. When he entered, he saw that Tintin and John were already there sat on the small sofa that was really the access for Thunderbird Three, talking with each other softly. Jeff was sitting behind his desk, absently playing with a pen while staring at the portraits on the wall. The other two sons hadn't yet made it, but Brains was sat in a corner, busy scribbling notes about something. As Scott surveyed the room, Virgil and Gordon walked in together. They had obviously gone and grabbed coffees from the kitchen, explaining their late appearance.

"Thank you all for coming," Jeff started, still playing with the pen. With a start, Scott saw that Alan was there as well, the normally static portrait moving as he nodded towards his father. "Kyrano will be making lunch in a short time, so I'd like to get this over with quickly," Jeff continued. "Recently, International Rescue has come under threat, from mercenary characters that are prepared to risk anything to steal our secrets. This has left two of you in grave danger, and although luckily you have not come to anything serious harm it is possible that next time any of you may not be so lucky. This leaves me with a dilemma – whether or not to continue with the operation at all." He paused here, and there was a general outcry from the assembled crowd.

"We can't give it up, dad!" Gordon moved forwards, his usual impetuousness causing him to be the first to speak. "We've worked so hard and helped so many people. If we stop now, we will be letting them all down."

"I agree father," Scott added emphatically. "You once told me that if anyone was harmed by our inaction, that we would have failed. If we give up just because of this, then we will also have failed. We can't do it."

Jeff looked around at his sons, touched by their commitment to his cause and immeasurably proud of them. The only son that did not seem to be as firm in their agreement was John, but given what he had been through it was not difficult to see why. Jeff turned to him now, "John, I want you to relieve Alan on Thunderbird Five as soon as you are able to. I know it's been a short trip down this time, but you need to rest and recover and I think we need Alan to be here to help us with whatever comes next."

John shot his father a grateful look. "That would be good dad…I don't feel up to facing the person behind this, not yet."

"And everyone else is happy to continue? It is asking a lot of you boys and I don't want anyone to feel that they have to do anything they don't want to."

All of his sons replied in the affirmative, and Jeff smiled. "Well then, you'd better go and take care of your machines. Gordon, Brains has been discussing an update to Thunderbird 4 with me that I think you'd be interested in. Virgil, I need Thunderbird 2 ready to fly again as soon as possible in case there is an emergency, Tintin will help you patch the engine back together. John, when can you be ready to go up to Thunderbird 5?"

"In about an hour, if that's ok with Scott."

"Well then go and get ready, the pair of you. I'll see you back here in an hour, I think Kyrano should be done with lunch now so you should be able to eat before you go."

"That is right, Mr Tracy." During their discussion Kyrano had appeared in the doorway, waiting until Jeff had finished before intruding.

"Very well, off you go then."

A chorus of "Yes sir", "Yes father," and "Sure dad" echoed around the room as the boys and Tintin left, with Alan signing off from space to go and pack his things. Jeff watched them go, a lump swelling in his throat.

"They are all very brave, you must be proud of them."

"I am Kyrano, very proud." As he looked at the portraits on the wall, Jeff could only marvel at how he had managed to end up with such a fine set of sons.


	15. Island Life

The next few weeks on Tracy Island were very quiet, almost anticlimactic after everything that had happened. There were no emergency calls for them to attend to and the boys spent their time swimming, relaxing and performing small jobs on their aircraft. John had settled in again on Thunderbird 5, the relaxed daily routine combined with no real rescues to oversee allowed him to get plenty of rest and he was recuperating both physically and mentally. He was also able to devote more time to his astronomical studies which occupied his mind and took it away from the horrors he had been through. For most people the solitary life on the space station would not be conducive to a quick recovery, but it suited John perfectly. It allowed him to process everything at his own pace and his father and brothers were only a quick video-link away if he felt he needed some company.

On the Island, Scott was also using the free time to get his own thoughts in order. Mentally his whole world had shifted, and he was beginning to re-evaluate his priorities. Before he had been wholly dedicated to International Rescue, and in his heart he still felt it to be his calling, but now there was something that detracted from it. Something that had chestnut hair and large brown eyes, which haunted his every thought both when awake and in his dreams when asleep. He was also coming to realise that Angel was right, she would never be able to come and live with him on the Island. Every day when he sat with his brothers around the pool, or when he played chess in the lounge, or when he escaped down to Thunderbird 1's hanger and painted the wings with a new flame-proof paint he tried to picture Angel there, smiling with him, helping him – and he couldn't. When he pictured Angel he saw her standing, the wind pulling her hair in strands across her face, somehow as wild and unpredictable as the moors where she'd made her home. To bring her to the Island would be to cage her, to take her away from the world that she fitted into somehow. She was used to the endless space and loneliness of moors and mountains, a small island in the middle of the pacific with so many other inhabitants would slowly kill her.

These reflections did not make him feel friendlier towards the other members of his family; irrationally he had equated it subconsciously as their fault that the Island was so crowded. He snapped more than usual especially when plagued by the pranks of his younger brothers and spent most of his free time with his aircraft, throwing all his energy into ensuring it was in the best possible condition. This was very unlike the normally calm if slightly bossy older brother that the others were used to, and everybody picked up on the change.

Jeff attributed it partly to boredom and partly to continued anxiety. It was not unreasonable to do so, all the others were showing similar signs due to their inaction and the continued threat to International Rescue that was hanging over their heads. Gordon and Alan were coping the best, not because they were any less conscious of the danger but because they chose to relieve the stress by spending more time in the pool and surfing the waves, dispelling all the tension through activity. They had also been pulling pranks on all the others to help them feel better - or that is how they would have excused it. Virgil was not pleased the day he turned to his easel to find that Gordon had dipped all of his paintbrushes in superglue. In appearance they looked just the same as usual, but all the soft bristles were stuck together in a hard matted lump, effectively putting a halt to Virgil's aim of painting a particularly glorious sunset over the ocean.

In payback Gordon ceremoniously found that all the contents of his bedroom had been arranged neatly on the balcony the next day when returning from an early evening swim at the pool. Virgil and Alan sat innocently in the lounge, watching a documentary discussing new energy possibilities, when Gordon stormed in.

"What have you done with my things? Why are they on the balcony?"

"I don't know what you mean Gordon," Virgil replied, taking a long draft on a cigarette he was carelessly holding in one hand.

"You really should be more careful with where you put things," Alan added. "If you leave it all outside it will probably get wet in the storm forecast this evening."

Gordon stared at both of them. "Those things will kill you," he snapped grumpily, pointing at Virgil's cigarette before turning and stomping out of the room. The two boys sat on the sofa could barely contain themselves as they watched Gordon struggling to carry everything back into his bedroom.

"I'd almost feel sorry for him," commented Virgil. "But it's going to be over a week until I get any new paintbrushes, I've ordered them too late to reach this week's supply plane."

"It could have been worse, we could have taken it down to the beach. Not only would it have got covered in sand but he would've had to carry it back up all those stairs."

Their father chose that moment to enter the room. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Gordon trying to manhandle his large television back into the building, and looked quizzically at his other sons. When they both avoided meeting his eye he wisely decided that a tactical retreat would be the most sensible course of action and he fled into his office, chuckling as he did so over his sons' antics.

He was less amused a couple of days later when Gordon swapped all the coffee in the house for decaffeinated variants. More annoyingly, by the time Jeff had realised that the expected energy boost hadn't materialised, Gordon had vanished taking with him the entire Island's supply of caffeine. The day proved tenuous as tempers flared without the soothing relief of proper coffee to cool the nerves. Scott spent even more time with Thunderbird 1, before retreating back to his room with a banging headache due to caffeine withdrawal symptoms. Virgil was furiously stabbing at the piano and Jeff just stormed around his study, dictating overly aggressive letters for Tintin to type. Tintin, who had always preferred tea to coffee anyway, watched with great amusement as she toned down all of Jeff's correspondence so as to avoid offending anybody too much.

The glee on Gordon's face didn't fade for several days, even after the dressing down from almost all members of his family. He, Tintin and Kyrano didn't drink a lot of coffee and so were hardly affected by the sudden lack on the Island. They all secretly derived great entertainment from watching the coping mechanisms of the others. Naturally Gordon returned the caffeine eventually, but not before half his family realised what addicts they were. John had the story related to him both by Scott and an exultant Gordon and nearly fell off his seat with laughter.

"Well now we know how to bring International Rescue to its knees – just take away its coffee!"

Scott scowled up at the blond, who was too far away for him to do anything about his laughter. "Yes, but I'll be pleased when we get another rescue – the longer we all stay on this island with nothing to do the more likely we are to throttle each other."

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Scott had his wish granted sooner than he expected. A small earthquake in China had trapped a bus on a mountainside and International Rescue were called to try and help the occupants. The bus was in no danger, but the road to either side had been decimated and no local rescue services could reach them. Night was approaching and with it cold temperatures, but it was still a rescue that IR would not normally have attended had it not been for the fact that the bus was full of school children.

Only Scott and Virgil attended, Scott surveying from the air while Virgil used the magnetic grabs to get hold of the bus and move it to safety. The bus was stranded on a stretch of road on a mountainside, no sheer drops in sight but still too steep to for anyone to scramble and help them. The road lower down the mountain had been covered by a landslip and the road at the pass above them had broken apart rendering it impassable. Apart from a hairy moment when another tremor loosened some boulders that threatened to knock the bus out of Virgil's grasp it was a fairly routine procedure and soon the bus was set down near some very relieved parents. Scott wanted to ensure that the children were all safe and well before he left, so he brought Thunderbird 1 down not far away from where the bus had been set down in a green valley full of paddy fields that lay at the base of the mountain.

"Good job, Virgil, that was some neat flying. I'll finish up here if you want to head back to base."

"F.A.B. Scott, see you in a bit." The engines on the big green craft roared and it slowly began to move away, gathering speed all the time until it vanished into the clouds.

Scott climbed out of Thunderbird 1, relieved to see that the local police were doing as he had asked and keeping the crowds away from the machine. He walked over to the local officer in charge. "Is everyone accounted for?"

The man looked puzzled and began speaking to Scott in very quick Chinese. Scott immediately reached for the translator he kept in Thunderbird 1's cockpit and tried again. He eventually established that everyone was present and unharmed, and he turned to leave. As he climbed back into Thunderbird 1 he couldn't help getting a flashback of boots resting on his control panels, claws idly resting on the levers he used to control the craft. Shaking his head he dismissed these thoughts – it did no good to dwell on them, despite the sudden grief at not finding Angel here to greet him after a rescue. Pulling himself together he started Thunderbird 1's engines, lifted into the air with a roar and headed for home.

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The successful completion of a rescue seemed to lift the tension that had been forming over the Island. They still knew that there was a serious threat to International Rescue, but the fact that they had been able to go out and perform a normal rescue without external interference allowed them to focus on doing their jobs.

A couple of other small rescues came in close succession, one where they were called to help authorities reach trapped people in a flood in India and another to help tackle a fire at a department store in Albania. They weren't even needed at the latter and once Scott had arrived and assessed the scene he sent Virgil and Alan a message telling to turn around and head back home again. This return to a normal routine bolstered everyone's spirits, even Scott was more himself again. The responsibility placed on his shoulders during rescues took his mind off the many issues that were bothering him and although he still longed for Angel's company he found that he could learn to block that emotion before it managed to overwhelm him.

They hadn't heard anything about the man responsible for kidnapping John. The only new information that the police had since the interview at the hospital was that the two men that they had captured had been drugged instead of drunk. This made more sense, but the question everyone was thinking was who? Who had tried to help them by drugging the men? Or did they make a mistake and drug themselves?

Scott knew the answer of course, but not even this could persuade him to talk to the rest of his family about it. He just listened to their conversations on the subject, typically a heated discussion between Gordon and Alan long after the others had stopped talking about it.

Their speculations were halted when Alan returned once again to the space station, something he complained about to anyone that would listen.

"Why do I always have to be the one to relieve John? Why can't Scott or any of the others go?"

"Now Alan, you know they're needed here," his father replied patiently, having been through this argument several times in the past. "Scott and Virgil are necessary on any rescue, and Gordon is by far the best submariner."

"But Thunderbird 4 is hardly ever used! Why can't Gordon do a turn?"

"Just because it isn't often used doesn't mean that it won't be needed, and if he is on Thunderbird 5 then we may not be able to perform the rescue." Secretly Jeff was relieved that Gordon didn't have to do much time on the space station, he rather wanted to keep the station in one piece.

This reasoning didn't do much to placate Alan although he couldn't argue against it and he was still grumbling when he slipped into his seat on Thunderbird 3 to begin the launch. Once he had changed into his uniform though there was no trace of his earlier resentment; apart from it being unprofessional he also knew how unfair it was to complain in front of John when his older brother had already done an extended tour. "Scott are you ready to go?"

"F.A.B. Alan," came the reply through the intercom down to the second control level, where his brother was sitting ready to assist with the flight.

"Thunderbird 3 to base, ready to launch."

"Ok Thunderbird 3, you have permission to begin your count down."

"F.A.B." Alan replied, hitting the buttons in the sequence that would start the thirty second countdown to launch. Tintin's voice crackled over the radio doing the countdown in her musical tones, replacing Jeff's voice that used to count them down for lift off. Alan could hear Scott chuckling up the intercom.

"Nice touch Alan, but what does John say about it?"

"John doesn't know….yet. It's been a quiet few weeks and Tintin and I decided it would be our little project while there wasn't much to do."

Scott was amused, but it was also a sign that Alan and Tintin were growing increasingly close. Everyone expected it to just be a matter of time now before they made it official. How that would work out he wasn't quite sure – not that any of the others resented their relationship but it did highlight the fact that the closest most of them got to a 'long-term' relationship with a woman was with Grandma. "Or at least until I met Angel, if that even counts." He murmured to himself, preparing the console for launch. With a roar the thrusters kicked in and the rocket was launched into the sky.

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John was relieved to be back on terra firma after an extended stint in the station. Due to Alan's racing commitments he would be back up there quickly too, so he only had two weeks to enjoy 'paradise'. He had obviously relaxed and sorted things out in his mind while he'd been away – the space station gave him the quiet he needed to organise his thoughts and he liked that about it.

The first couple of days he was back he spent mostly living the life of decadence that many assumed the boys always had. Unfortunately a cyclone had kicked up nearby which meant that they couldn't laze around the pool, so they indulged in film marathons in their small home cinema and Virgil struck up the piano in the evenings for them to enjoy and relax to. Due to the storm it was nearly impossible to launch the Thunderbirds even if there was an emergency, so Gordon and John were busy inventing cocktails using their father's liquor cabinet. Scott was 'supervising', whilst giving hints of how to make them better.

"How about…tequila and mango, with a dash of rum and lime."

"Sounds disgusting Gordon. Why would you add tequila to anything? And what is your obsession with mango about?"

"Well I want something to match my hair – then it can be Gordon's Greatest."

"How about adding rum and vodka to the mango and tequila, with a touch of grenadine to heighten the colour, a twist of lime and some soda on crushed ice before sprinkling with cracked salt."

"Scott, if you want to poison yourself be my guest, but I'd rather survive the night."

John laughed as he held up his concoction; lemon juice with condensed milk, rum, coffee cream liquor and soda. "One of Grandma's cheesecakes as a drink! That will suit me."

On that cue Grandma came over to see what they were doing. "What is that terrible stuff you're making boys? What is wrong with a good old-fashioned rum and coke?"

"Nothing at all Grandma, I'm sure we can get you one of those." Scott went behind the bar and started to make her a drink. "Lemon?"

Tintin also wandered over, distracted by the noise. "Why Scott, you do make a good bartender. Maybe you missed your calling?"

"Yeah," Virgil called from the piano. "He'll be needed soon to rescue Gordon – from the bar stool!"

Gordon had lost his fight with the tequila mixes he'd been pouring, and had fallen off his barstool, grabbing out at it in the process and pulling it over on top of him. At this everyone in the room burst into laughter while Gordon stared indignantly at them from the floor with the barstool still lying on top of him. "Wha's so funny?"

This was the scene that Jeff found when he walked into the room. Shaking his head in mock resignation he sat in his favourite chair and flicked through a newspaper while Tintin brought him a scotch. Listening to the sounds of merriment filling the room and sneakily looking over his newspaper at what was going on, Jeff was extremely pleased. Life on Tracy Island was back to normal.


	16. What else are big brothers for?

A few days later Scott was sat in his father's study, sending some short messages to his university friends. Since joining International Rescue he had found it very difficult to keep in touch with his friends from both university and Air Force days, mostly due to the level of secrecy surrounding his occupation. His friends just found it too difficult to believe that the same active, commanding and independent Scott that had so suited the forces life had decided to leave it and take a desk job working for his father. Add to that a life of apparent decadence and they were almost incredulous whenever they asked him about his life. Scott could understand their scepticism, but didn't appreciate the interrogation that resulted whenever he met them face to face. Due to this he avoided many of the large group social gatherings that his university friends organised whilst citing work as the reason, and corresponded with everyone mainly by email. Eventually he had stopped receiving invites which had saddened him at first but he had become resigned to it.

All of this had only increase the level of isolation he felt with his way of life, despite having such a caring family around him. He hadn't shared it with them of course; the only person he had ever mentioned it to was Angel that night under the stars. Thinking of Angel made him pause mid-letter, his fingers hovering over the touchpad. He hadn't felt lonely at all with Angel, it had been good to have someone to share his worries with that wasn't there to judge. Besides, if anyone knew about feeling lonely it was her. To be raised in a monastery in the middle of Asia after her mother had died when she was only eight years old, having been rejected by her father and without any loving family to care for her and only monks to teach her, she definitely knew what loneliness was. Scott had felt that in some way she had needed him almost as much as he had needed her to share in this loneliness.

But it was no good thinking about that now, thinking too long about Angel just distracted him. He went back to the task in hand, congratulating a friend on his recent engagement whilst thinking wryly that the closest he'd get to a marriage was when Tintin and Alan stopped tiptoeing around each other and finally got their feelings out in the open.

Alan's portrait starting flashing distracting Scott and with a frown he answered.

"Hello Thunderbird 5, what's up Alan? Is something wrong? Someone need International Rescue?"

"No Scott, I just wanted to check in. How are you?"

"Pretty good thanks Alan, you want me to go get Tintin or Gordon?"

"Actually Scott I wanted a quick word with you. Is anyone else around?"

"They're all out by the pool." Now that the storm had blown over the inhabitants of Tracy Island had spent the last day or so beside the pool, taking it in turns to keep an eye on the office in case an emergency came up.

"Oh good. I wanted to ask you a question." Scott was surprised, close as he was to all his brothers Alan rarely asked to speak to him alone.

"Go ahead."

"Does John…is he…is there a girl in his life?"

Scott was startled by the question. "John? He spends all his time stargazing, even when he's down here. I can't imagine when he would meet a girl – I certainly haven't heard anything about one."

Alan looked relieved. "Well that's good." His expression turned to one of glee, "Wait 'til I tell Gordon about the drawings then!"

"Hold on a minute Alan," Scott held up his hand, trying to work out what was going on and not realising how much he resembled his father in that moment. "What drawings are these?"

"Um…just some I found on Thunderbird 5." Alan seemed to be a little uncomfortable as he said this, and hurried on. "They aren't really drawings... more sketches. Nothing like Virgil's level of good. But they all seem to be this girl and I thought, if John has – you know – then maybe it's a bit private and I shouldn't be seeing them, but if there's no girl in his life then they're fair game, right?"

"Wrong. If they are private then you probably shouldn't be broadcasting them to the others." Scott couldn't helped but be intrigued by the sketches though – he would expect Virgil to draw when bored, and maybe even Alan in one of his more romantic moods – but John? All he normally picked up a pencil for was to draw graphs into the large tomes on stars that Scott was all too familiar with. "What are these sketches like?"

"Well, there's only a couple and they're pretty similar. Hang on a second and I'll show you one." Alan disappeared from view momentarily, returning a moment later with some paper clutched in his hand. He turned it around to show Scott the image drawn on the other side. "This is the clearest. Kinda rough sketch, but she's pretty."

To Scott it was uncomfortably clear. John may not have possessed the same skills with a pen as Virgil but the subject couldn't be mistaken – not for Scott, at least. Those same, expressive eyes; the curve of her jaw; her neckline that he knew was very ticklish. An image of Angel sat cradling John's head in the woods swam into his mind and he realised his brother must not have been as out of it as he appeared.

"I definitely don't think you should be sharing this with Gordon."

"You're no fun, Scott."

"Let me remind you Alan that you have things you probably don't want Gordon to know about either. Letters, perhaps."

Alan coloured, the red skin setting his blond hair off nicely. "How did you… he found them? Rats, I thought I'd hidden them better. OK Scott, I'll keep it quiet."

"Good boy. Ah, here's Gordon now." The redhead had bounded in to the room, closely followed by his father.

"Hi Alan, what's up?"

Scott snuck out of the room and went to find his closest brother. John was playing polo with Virgil in the pool and he didn't want to disturb him, or bring up the topic in front of Virgil. To his frustration he didn't manage to get John alone for the rest of the day, so after dinner he made a feeble excuse to escape from his father's business talk and almost ran to where he knew John would be.

The observation deck had been built by their father when they had first moved to Tracy Island, and it had soon become popular with all of them. A small shed had now been added at the base of the last set of stairs so that John could keep his astronomy equipment out of the way, he had frequently complained that the amount of traffic to the deck kept misaligning everything. The compromise hadn't really satisfied him as now he had to cart his whole telescope up the final stairway, but at least it was no longer in danger of being broken. Scott found him using it now, scribbling notes at a desk illuminated with a small red light. Moving over to him Scott stood and marvelled at the stars that were out. As he stood there he eventually addressed his brother.

"So Johnny, anything been on your mind?"

John didn't look up from his papers, but a smiled played on his face. "You haven't called me Johnny for years."

"As far as I know, you haven't drawn any pictures for years either."

John stilled suddenly, his eyes not leaving his notebook. "Ah."

"And after telling me all about Alan's love letters too. I would have thought you'd be more careful." Scott's tone was flippant, trying to bait a response from his brother. John stayed silent, leading Scott to inquire more seriously, "Who is she?"

"I don't know. I mean, I know when I saw her, but I don't know who she is." John huffed in annoyance at his lack of articulation, put down his pencil and turned to his brother. "I dreamed when I was held hostage that a woman came to free me. It was dark so I couldn't tell you what colour her hair or eyes were, but she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and I couldn't get the image out of my mind, so I started trying to sketch it. When the police informed us that those men had been drugged…it made me wonder…what if I hadn't dreamed it?"

"There was no one there when I found you." Scott hated lying to his brother, but he couldn't reveal anything about Angel – if she had wanted John to know about her she would have stayed when Scott had turned up.

"I guess you're right – why would she leave? Still, I couldn't get the image out of my head and started to try to pretend I could do a Virgil." John shook his head and returned to his notes with a dejected expression. "Gordon is going to be hell when he finds out."

"He shouldn't find out," Scott was amused to see the hopeful look on John's face. "I reminded our baby brother that if he decided to inform Gordon of your drawings we could do likewise with his love letters, which are actually far more revealing than your lack of artist talent."

John's smile was warm as he looked at his big brother. "How do you find time to look after all of us?"

"Oh, it's a skill I've honed after many years of practise."

"But who looks after you Scott?"

"Me? I don't need looking after. I've reached the ripe old age of 26 now, I should be able to look after myself."

John wisely returned to his notes, realising that Scott wouldn't let him push it further but thinking that perhaps even big brother needed someone to look out for him.


	17. The Invention

The first week of John's shore leave otherwise passed by smoothly, only one incident for which the Thunderbirds were scrambled that didn't even really count as a rescue. Lady Penelope needed some help when a 'hobby' of hers meant that she became trapped in a cave in a rising tide. Only Virgil and Gordon attended with Thunderbirds 2 and 4, and came back with little idea as to what the aristocrat had been doing to find herself in that situation in the first place. Jeff surmised she was helping out an old MI5 friend and got into a pickle, but Penelope as a rule didn't talk about her former work colleagues unless they had left the service.

The following week, a few days before John was due to return to Thunderbird 5, Jeff was stood in his office trying to get through some of his backlog of paperwork. He picked up the stack of letters that the weekly mail-plane had delivered the previous day. Flicking through, he saw that most of them were bills or general notes from the various parts of the company. He had appointed managing boards for it and so they sent him weekly reports on the progress to arrive with the plane. Jeff didn't like email much, although the internet had been reinstated after the great satellite crash he didn't trust it anymore and preferred old fashioned stationary. He paused as he reached a letter from an origin he didn't recognise. Picking up his delicate letter-knife that Alan had bought him for his last birthday, complete with his initials intricately woven into the handle, he opened the envelope and picked out the sheets underneath. It was a letter from a small company that was working on a new jet for the International Air Force that was powered by water using a small hydrogen extractor and required funding to help develop its prototype.

Jeff was always on the lookout for challenging new inventions, and this one jumped out at him immediately. He had heard about the range of hydrogen extractors that were being developed, but no one had yet managed to harness the power in a useable form. Along with the letter some blueprints were enclosed for the design, without most of the details for commercial sensitivity but still giving a good idea of how the finished product would work. Jeff knew a thing or two about jet engines, and from his first glance he thought the design looked promising. However, he knew just who to call for a better opinion.

"Brains, can you come up to my office please?"

Brains arrived with Scott and John in tow. The trio had been looking at a way to upgrade Thunderbird 1's motors to reduce its power consumption and both Scott and John had been intrigued by their father's sudden summons.

"What i-is it, Mr Tracy?"

"I've just received a letter requesting investment in a project Brains, and I like the look of it. What do you make of it?" He handed over the letter and design details, and Brains pored over it eagerly. Scott and John waited and fidgeted, trying to contain their impatience to see the designs but failing miserably. Eventually Brains looked up at them all.

"I think I see, Mr T-Tracy. It is certainly very interesting, but I would like to hear more about it. There are some details that, um, seem a little unusual."

"But you think it has potential?"

"C-Certainly, Mr. Tracy."

"Very well then, we'll arrange for them to come and present their ideas in more detail."

"Not here father?" Scott asked with some alarm. Although they did get visitors to the Island, it meant a large cover up operation and they had to hope that there were no rescues in the entire period the visitor stayed. In the past an emergency had led to poor Tintin having to think of new and inventive ways to keep the visitor occupied, not to mention well away from anywhere that the roar of the Thunderbird engines could be heard.

"No I don't think so Scott. I think we can invite him to Tracy Industries California though and then Brains can go and hear the pitch there."

Both of his sons suddenly paid a lot of interest. Tracy Industries California was on the edge of San Francisco and somewhere that both boys would appreciate visiting. Jeff saw both their interests and smiled inwardly, he knew they would both want to go, and decided that it wouldn't do either of them harm to have a working holiday.

"I think Scott, that given your expertise in jets it may be a good idea for you to accompany Brains on this trip. John, as you are soon going to be back up on '5 again you can also go – but don't let your younger brothers know that I'm giving you another break from the Island!"

Both boys grinned "Yes, sir!"

The next day they were taxiing down the short Island runway in a custom built plane, Scott at the helm and John acting as co-pilot. Brains was sat in the back, still looking at the designs that Jeff had given him.

Once they were airborne John turned to the genius. "So what do you think now you've had time to have a better look?"

"I-I don't know, John. They certainly seem very promising, but it almost feels too good. I would be happier when I can get more details."

"Imagine if they managed it though," mused Scott from the pilot's seat. "The amount of power they could generate – the jet would be even faster than the atomic jet! I would love to fly something like that."

"Isn't Thunderbird 1 enough anymore?" John smiled at his brother. "With you it's always about the speed…"

"I don't know, I hear that the length of time you can fly for is important too."

John raised an eyebrow at his brother, causing both of them to dissolve into giggles. Brains looked from one to the other, decided there was no way that he was going to understand what they were talking about and went back to the plans.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tracy Industries California was a large and imposing building that sat with a commanding view of the bay of San Francisco down in front of it. The whole building was a testimony to the hard work of Jeff Tracy when he built his company and it was the office he visited every time he had to return to the mainland for work. Being on the west coast of America it was relatively close to their pacific island, even with a conventional plane only took a couple of hours to reach. It was then only a short drive from the airport to the office, and as Scott pulled up at the entrance all the passengers in the car leant forwards to get a better look.

"I know I say this every time, but this place sure is impressive."

"I-I couldn't agree more, Scott." They pulled in front of the main entrance, where there was a special parking bay reserved. Piling out the car, they were greeted by their father's personal secretary, who was responsible for keeping everything running all the time their father was away.

"Mr. Tracy! And Mr. Tracy! What an honour this is. Your father called ahead and said I was to give you any assistance you require. I understand you will be here for a couple of days?"

"Yes that's right," Scott replied, following the small blond as she led the way into the building. "We're hoping to receive some visitors during our stay as well. Can we please have full run of a conference suite?"

"Why don't you use the Annex? There are conference facilities there, and we can ensure you are not disturbed." The Annex was a small building with a private access road that lay at the far end of the Tracy property. Jeff had built it so that he could guarantee privacy when discussing the procurement of components for International Rescue and now any of the family that wanted to conduct meetings on the mainland usually utilised the facility as it meant that they would not be disturbed.

"That would be perfect, thank you Alice." The secretary blushed at being called by her name, despite having met Scott several times before.

"Would you care to attend to some of your father's business now, Mr Tracy? Or would you prefer to go straight to your hotel, I have the keys here." Jeff Tracy had invested in a luxury hotel next to the office towers, partly so that any visiting businessmen could stay in comfort and partly for the use of his own family whenever they came to sort out any business. Scott hesitated when she held out the keys to the two penthouse suites, he knew that John and Brains would appreciated the opportunity to freshen up but he wanted to get some of the business he had been asked to take care of over with so that he could enjoy the rest of his time.

John saw his brother's dilemma and stepped in. "Why don't we go freshen up Scott and you can do whatever you need to here. Come and find us when you're done and we'll take the rest of the afternoon off." John neatly snagged the two keys and gave the petite blond a wink, causing her to blush even more. Dealing with one of Jeff Tracy's handsome sons was bad enough, but to be faced with two at once meant that all rational thoughts left her mind momentarily and she could only stand and gape at them.

John marched Brains away, deciding that until they left Scott wouldn't be able to get any work done. When they had gone Scott went to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. Naturally his father's office was at the top floor – Jeff Tracy appreciated the view of the city from there, and it also gave him a view of the sea that he missed when away from the Island.

Entering the room, Scott couldn't help but reflect on the face of Tracy Industries when away from the Island. The office was imposing and large, boasting its own conference room as well as a bar for less formal occasions. One wall had floor to ceiling windows giving fantastic views of the city with the sea glinting in the distance. Scott stood and looked at the view for a while, as nearly every visitor to the office did when they first arrived. Bringing himself back to the task in hand, he moved over to the desk where he saw that his father's secretary had already brought all the paperwork that required his attention and sorted into piles for him. "You're a star Ali," he murmured, realising that she had highlighted all the papers he needed to sign. Post-its decorated almost every sheet with notes on the contents, pointing his attention to specific paragraphs that he needed to read.

It took him less than two hours to finish all the business that his father had asked him to look over on his trip to the mainland. He took one last look at the view, knowing that the penthouse suite in the hotel that John and he would be staying in shared a similar panorama despite being slightly lower, before calling a lift to return downstairs.

Alice met him in the large atrium of the building. "Is everything in order, Mr. Tracy?"

"It's great, thanks Alice. I think I covered everything."

She fell into step as he walked towards the large doors. "I called a car when you summoned the elevator." Sure enough a car was waiting just outside the doors. Scott looked at in incredulously.

"Remind me to get you a raise," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing Alice. Can you ensure we have exclusive use of the Annex tomorrow please?"

"Of course Mr. Tracy." Scott slipped past the chauffeur into the back of the car for the short journey to the hotel. Once there, he headed up to the penthouse suite to find John watching TV while Brains continued to study the designs sat on the large sofa. The penthouse was nearly as large as the office he'd just been in and had several bedrooms leading off a central lounge which held similar full length windows as the office, but with a balcony attached to make the most of the view. There were enough separate bedrooms for the whole family to stay at once, useful now as each man could get his own room. Scott turned to his brother who was lounging idly in an armchair.

"We come all the way to California and you watch TV."

John smiled as he turned the television off. "Now you're back maybe we can go do some sightseeing. Dad called earlier, he's arranged for the company coming to talk to us about their jets to arrive tomorrow."

"Well that's great, gives us the rest of the day off. You coming Brains?"

Brains looked up from what he was doing at the two young men, who were already standing and ready to hit the town. "I-it's alright guys, go without me. I w-want to have a look at this design more before we meet with the representatives tomorrow."

"Suit yourself Brains.", "Yeah see you later Brains." The two Tracy's left to head into San Francisco city centre. Brains continued to pore over the designs spread out over the large sofa, making notes and muttering to himself.

Several hours later after considerable work, he threw down the designs on the small coffee table in frustration. "I just don't get it!"

At that moment Scott and John had returned with large cardboard trays full of take-out pizza. "What don't you get, Brains?"

"It's this d-design, Scott. There is something wrong with it, b-but I can't work out what!"

"You've been looking at it too long Brains," John suggested, collapsing onto the sofa next to him. "Here, we brought you dinner."

"M-maybe that's it. Maybe it will seem clearer in the m-morning."

"That's the spirit." John opened the nearest pizza box and wafted the smell towards Brains. Giving up, the inventor grabbed a slice of pizza. John smiled happily before tucking into his own. "Thish ish the life," he said around his mouthful.

"The one thing I always miss most is the pizza," Scott agreed, slumping into a large armchair next to the sofa. "You just can't find anyone who delivers to Tracy Island!"

The boys spent the rest of their evening watching films and ordering room service to wash down the pizza. It was a pleasant break to be away from the Island, even if just for a few days on work and they were determined to make the most of it. It gave all of them the opportunity to let their hair down and for once not be part of a major rescue organisation, instead for one night only they were just normal twenty-something year old men. It was a refreshing change.


	18. The Morning After...

The next morning dawned clear with a slight chill in the air. From the large windows of the penthouse the mist could be seen rolling up the San Francisco Bay, slowly climbing the hills of the city. The hotel faced the Bay and so the morning sun streamed through the large windows and fell across John's face as he lay snoring on the large sofa, surrounded by candy wrappers and empty beer cans. The night before had turned into a bit of a bloke-fest with several movies, mountains of snacks and large quantities of beer being consumed by the three men. John hadn't quite made it back to his room but the sofa was large enough to hold his tall frame, and the sun now playing on his face slowly brought him back to reality. He sat up with a start and rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember where he was and what he was meant to be doing.

"That sun sure is bright," he grumbled, shielding his eyes as he stumbled to pull the blinds. He found the remote that controlled the curtains and slowly shut out the insistent morning light. Sitting back down, he tried to focus on where he was. "Tracy industries – the meeting with the jet designers!" He checked the clock and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only 8am, and they had arranged to meet the company representatives at the Annex at noon. "Plenty of time to start feeling more alive."

He made attempts to tidy up but soon gave up and headed towards one of the bathrooms, where he spent an obscene amount of time standing in the shower trying to wake up properly. When he finally emerged, having had a shave and grooming his hair into its usual curl, he saw that Scott had also managed to emerge from one of the bedrooms looking even rougher than John felt. The pilot gave his younger brother a weak grin.

"Remind me why we decided to drink California out of beer?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." John started to pick up some of the beer cans that were spread around the room. "How do you think Brains is doing?"

"I'm not sure…I don't think I've ever seen Brains drink like that. It's a good thing we don't need to meet these men until later, we get a chance to recover."

John put the cans he'd collected so far on one of the small table and flopped into an arm chair. "I'm not sure I'm ever going to feel better. I am never drinking again."

Scott smiled as he picked up a phone from the desk. "I think breakfast may be in order. What is it Penny orders for us after we indulge in too much sherry?" He started talking into the receiver. "Hi, can I get some room service? I'd like some bacon sandwiches…yes, with some ketchup….and some juice. Oh and coffee. Lots of it."

Although Scott may have sounded perky, he looked even worse than John. He hadn't managed to make it into the shower yet, and he was sporting an impressive morning shadow where his typically dark stubble showed clearly against his pale skin. His blue eyes were decidedly bloodshot and he had a terrible headache. However, it was nothing that a strong cup of his favourite addiction couldn't fix.

The room service arrived shortly, bringing with it the delicious, fresh smell of crispy bacon. On the groaning table a stack of sandwiches was piled up on a plate next to a large jug of orange juice. The two men fell upon it hungrily, demolishing the whole pile of sandwiches in short order before turning their attention to the vat of steaming coffee.

"Do you think we should have left some for Brains?" John asked guiltily, looking at the crumb covered plate.

"We can order more when he gets up." Scott stole a look at Brains' bedroom door, still firmly shut. "It doesn't look like he's going to want food for a while."

The boys each grabbed more mugs of coffee and headed out on to the balcony to escape the mess still in the lounge. The sun had now warmed up the air and it was very pleasant to sit outside, drinking their coffee and trying to feel more alive. John sat on a lounger and looked out over the city, pleased to get a final chance to get away from the Island before he was back on the space station. He turned to tell Scott, to find that his older brother had fallen asleep in the sunshine on another lounger. John shook his head and smiled to himself, before returning his gaze to the view. In the warm morning air he could feel sleep stealing over him and he eventually succumbed. The cleaner that stole into the room to tidy up couldn't help but smile at the two brothers, who despite being very different in appearance were sleeping in exactly the same pose on the sunloungers.

When Scott woke he felt significantly better than before. It was now nearing noon, and he went to shower and shave. Reappearing from his bathroom twenty minutes later, looking much more civilised than before, he stopped and stared at the apparition in front of him.

Brains was a rather unhealthy shade of grey, and was uncharacteristically without his glasses. He was shuffling around the room, resembling a zombie from one of the terrible films that Alan insisted on bagging the cinema for on the Island. Scott moved forwards up to him, causing Brains to glare at him blearily.

"W-what did you d-do to me last night?"

Scott laughed, causing Brains to wince and cradle his head. "Sorry Brains, but we didn't do anything. You chose to drink that much all by yourself. Have some coffee and we'll order something to eat, you'll feel much better."

Brains grimaced. "I-I'm not sure I c-could handle food, Scott."

"Believe me, it will make you feel better." He picked up the phone, ordering some more breakfast for Brains and some lunch for himself and John while he was at it.

Once he'd eaten Brains did look more alive, but not by much. Both Scott and John had changed into smart blazers with jeans ready for work – neither of them liked wearing suits but some form of professionalism was required when they were representing their father. Brains they helped to look as respectable as they could, finding his prescription sunglasses so that he could hide his bloodshot eyes.

The trio leaving the hotel was an eclectic one. Scott and John looked smart and professional, if slightly relaxed with their denim jeans. Brains on the other hand look like a mad scientist with his large, tinted glasses and blue lab suit. He had also elected to wear his white trainers, part of the American in him, which only added to the strange outfit combination.

Scott drove the short distance to the Annex. It was separated from the main office by a golf course, another thing Jeff had provided for the use of company guests – and the boys when they stayed on business. They had a small driving range on the Island but it wasn't the same as getting some practise in on a proper course. The road to the Annex looped around the course so it felt more distant than it really was from the main offices. The real reason for the sweeping road was so that any traffic passing along it couldn't be seen from the tower, which had allowed Jeff Tracy to avoid arousing suspicion in staff when he set up International Rescue. Now it was just a convenient place to hold meetings.

Somehow the trio were the first to arrive. Letting themselves in, Scott could see that a pot of coffee had already been provided, in a small vessel that kept it perfectly hot for up to two days. There was also a computer system complete with holographic imager set up and ready to be used, but other than that there was no sign that anyone had been in the building. Scott poured them all some coffee while John arranged the chairs where they needed them for the presentation. Brains slipped into a chair and cradled his coffee, not yet taking off the large dark glasses.

Before long the sound of a car pulling up indicated that the representatives from the engine company had arrived. Four men got out, all wearing similar suits and carrying briefcases. Scott stepped out to meet them.

"Hi there. My name is Scott Tracy, I'm here representing my father. This is my brother John, and our chief engineer Mr. Hackenbacker." John stood to greet them, while Brains just about managed to raise a hand from his chair, causing the businessmen to glance at him curiously. "Mr. Hackenbacker is….a little eccentric, however he is a brilliant engineer who is very interested in your proposal." As the men went to set up, Scott moved closer to John. "We definitely shouldn't have let Brains drink as much last night." His blond brother nodded slightly in agreement as he made their guests coffee.

As the businessmen set up Scott took the opportunity to scrutinise them. The four men were very different in appearance. The first, who Scott assumed was in charge, was a tall man with an old fashioned goatee beard and dark hair. He had a round face and was tall, as tall as Scott but much broader. The next man was much shorter and blond with narrow eyes, although he was also heavy set. The third man looked the youngest of the quartet with unruly brown hair and striking cheekbones, and also an impressive moustache. The fourth was nondescript with brown hair and murky brown eyes, but had a hooped earring through one ear. Scott couldn't remember any of their names except for the obvious leader who introduced himself as Richard. He met so many people in the course of International Rescue that he had become very bad at actually making an effort to learn anyone's name. Apart from Angel's of course, but she had a unique way of getting his attention. Catching himself thinking about her yet again, he gave himself a mental shake and distributed coffees amongst the businessmen.

Scott and John settled into seats, while Brains with some effort managed to drag his chair close enough so that he could listen to the pitch. Richard, who was the man with the trimmed goatee, stood at the front and with the help of the holographic screen started taking them through the designs for the hydrogen extractor engine and how they were planning to insert it into a jet. Scott listened interestedly, but didn't really think he was being told anything that he hadn't already seen from the blueprints included with the letter. One of his colleagues took over and began discussing details about the jet, but as it was an existing jet design Scott wasn't particularly interested. When a natural break came in the presentation he stopped the men talking by holding up his hand.

"This is all very interesting, but you haven't told us anything new yet. Can you go into more details about the hydrogen extractor?"

The men looked at each other and Scott momentarily thought they looked uncomfortable. The thought passed in an instant though as Richard smiled confidently at the trio.

"I'm sure that you can understand that our design is highly confidential. If too many details became known then other companies could copy our designs which would be disastrous for our business. For this reason we do not take more detailed designs away from our factory base."

"Of course," Scott replied, frowning slightly at the man. "But you have asked us for a major investment. How can we put our money into a project without seeing the detailed plans in order to assess its viability?"

The businessman thought for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. "Our main factory is not far away from here. Would you accompany us there? You would be able to see our product first hand and could ask our engineers all the details you require."

Scott raised an eyebrow at this, and flicked a glance at John. His brother shrugged slightly, telling Scott that he didn't object to the idea. Scott then looked at Brains, but honestly didn't even know if the engineer was still awake or not. With no other option, Scott accepted the offer from the four men.

"We would be honoured to come and see your facility. Just allow us a few minutes to prepare and we will follow you in our vehicle."

Goatee nodded and herded the others out of the room. When the door had shut behind them Scott turned to John. "I'm going to get in touch with base and let them know what we're doing. You have no objection?"

"None at all. I think that seeing their facility will be very interesting and will help us to get a real idea of what it is they are doing."

"Brains?"

The genius groaned slightly and waved a hand. "W-whatever you want to do, S-Scott."

Scott took that as an affirmative and began closing down the computer. "John, if you could get Brains into the car – the front seat I think – I'll be out soon."

When John had half led, half carried Brains from the room Scott looked at his watch. "Scott Tracy to base. Come in, base."

His father's image appeared clearly on the monitor. "Hi Scott, how is everything going? The representatives tell you anything interesting yet? What did Brains think?"

"Slow down dad," Scott said with a smile. "The company haven't told us anything else from what we already knew, but they have offered a tour of their factory so we're going to go and have a look. Brains….isn't feeling so great this morning, but I think he is beginning to recover and will be able to have a close look at their factory."

"What's the matter with him?" Jeff Tracy asked, looking alarmed.

"Oh it's nothing serious dad. It's possible that we had one too many drinks last night, that's all." Scott had the conscience to look guilty as he spoke, although he hadn't technically forced them all to drink as the one in charge he knew his father would see it as his fault. He was not wrong.

"I see," was all that Jeff Tracy replied in a level voice that gave away no trace of his emotion. "And now you are going to their factory? Do you know where it is?"

"Not yet, although they say it isn't far from here. I'll be back in touch when I know more."

"OK Scott, and you think Brains will be recovered enough to make sense of things when you're there?"

"Yes father." 'Or at least I hope so', he added to himself afterwards.

"Well then I'll let you go now, get in touch if you require anything." With that his father signed out. Scott had a mini sigh of relief as he realised that his father could have grilled him much more, although he thought wryly that Jeff still might do that when they all returned to the Island.

Outside he saw that John had managed to get Brains into the car and was standing next to the driver's door, talking to Richard. As Scott approached the other man walked off to get into the front of an SUV that was parked next to their convertible.

"Is everything alright?" He asked John, getting closer to the car.

"Oh yes. He was just giving me directions in case we get lost. Appears to be about an hour up the coast." Scott nodded and got in the back of the car, allowing John to take the driving honours. The SUV roared into life and John dutifully followed it closely, out of the Tracy grounds and into the city.

The drive was uneventful. The boys weren't very familiar with the area, but they could see that they were hugging the coast all the way as they travelled north. Brains in the front seat dozed off, which was definitely better than him retching for the whole journey. He still had the dark glasses glued to his head, but the snoring was good enough indication that he was asleep.

Eventually the miniature convoy pulled through a security fence and parked up near the edge of a cliff. The passengers disembarked, and the visitors were led by Richard into a building situated just next to the car park.

"This is our main office building," their guide explained, taking them into a large room. More floor length windows formed a large curving wall to one side with a hand rail about two feet high running along in front of them. Scott went over to look out and realised that the windows bordered a section of the room that overhung the cliff, meaning that below it all you could see was the Pacific Ocean. The room was circular and about three stories high with a large staircase curving around the side opposite the windows. In the centre was a large statue that nearly reached the ceiling of a man looking out at the sea, his arm wide in a sweeping gesture. Scott looked at the statue closely, trying to work out who it might be.

"A remnant from the former occupants," Richard explained, seeing the object of Scott's interest. "The founding father of the company we have bought the building from. We have yet to remove it. Now, if I may?" Scott realised that the businessman was trying to usher him into a small side room, and sauntered over. "I will just go and fetch our managing director, who will give you a short presentation in here regarding some of the finer details of the design. Please help yourselves to refreshments in the meantime."

Entering the room Scott could see John and Brains already sat on small chairs facing a very old fashioned projector screen. Behind Scott the door snapped shut and he spun around to look at it in surprise.

"Well that's friendly. I guess they don't want us looking around too much while they go and find the director." Looking around the room, he could see no sign of the promised refreshments. "Odd..."

John nodded in agreement and then frowned as he tried to concentrate on something. "Scott, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That noise…" Scott strained his ears and then he caught it too, an almost undetectable hissing noise that sounded like air escaping from somewhere.

"That's strange. Maybe we should let them know that something is leaking."

Scott went to try to get out the door, but couldn't get it to slide back open. "That's more than strange. What's going on?"

"We're trapped!"

"Yes…and it seems to be deliberate. I'd better ring base." Just as Scott was about to call on his watch, there was a crash behind him as Brains fell from his chair onto the floor. "Brains!"

Scott rushed to his side, but Brains appeared to be unconscious. "John, he's unconscious. He must really be ill! Get hold of base now."

There was no reply. "John?" His brother was stood with his watch halfway to his mouth swaying gently, and then as Scott watched he seemed to topple like a tree falling heavily to the floor. Scott tried to go to him, but his legs suddenly felt very heavy and wouldn't obey his commands. As he tried to work that puzzle through, a fog seemed to settle over him and he couldn't think clearly.

"John…the gas…I can't seem to…" and Scott slumped in a heap next to the prone figure of Brains.

Dimly in his haze he was aware of a light touch to his brow and he caught a scent that at once worried and reassured him. "It will be alright," he thought he heard Angel whisper, before darkness overtook him completely.


	19. When will this end?

Scott was sitting in a chair; that much he knew. He also had a terrible headache. "I must have drunk too much last night," he grunted groggily, trying to use his hand to rub his eyes. But he couldn't. Blearily opening his eyes he saw that he was tied in a chair, and the memories of the day all came flooding back. He surreptitiously looked around, not wanting the people who had kidnapped him to realise that he was awake. He was tied to a chair in the large circular room he had seen before and with a flash of relief he saw that John and Brains were tied to chairs alongside him. Both still appeared to be unconscious, but otherwise look unharmed. He then turned his attention to the other occupants of the room.

Richard and the blond haired businessman – who Scott now realised must have just been criminals after all – sat playing cards at a small table in front of the large statue. They were still wearing the suits that they had worn for the presentation, but now with some obvious accessories. Richard, if that even was his name, had a large gun sling over one shoulder that rested loosely against his side whereas his companion had a small pistol sat on the floor within easy reach. They appeared to be playing for small amounts of cash and every now and then one of them looked up to check on their prisoners.

Scott couldn't see any sign of Angel – maybe he had imagined her voice? He had been on the edge of unconsciousness and couldn't be sure he had actually heard her whisper to him. There was also no sign of either of the other men. Scott assumed they were off running errands, Richard appeared to be the most confident and probable leader of the group and must have asked them to take care of something. What, Scott had no idea and didn't want to guess.

He then tried to work out his own situation. He was tied up to a chair, with his arms tied behind the back and his feet tied to the legs. He tried to move a little, but there was no give in his bonds which seemed to be made of a strong and inflexible man-made fibre. He had enough movement in his hands to feel his wrists and realise that his watch was gone so there was no chance of contacting base. Unfortunately the movement alerted the two men that he was no longer unconscious.

Richard sauntered over, his game forgotten. "Welcome back. For a moment there I thought you weren't going to wake up before the boss arrived, which would have been a shame." He drew a small switchblade knife from his pocket and flicked open the sharp steel, pressing it gently against Scott's cheek. "Such a pretty face, would be a shame not to have a chance to improve it." He moved the blade along Scott sculpted cheekbones, almost caressing them gently with the razor-sharp edge. Scott sat very still, not daring to move in case he decided to press harder. Scott had no illusion now that this man wasn't deranged, and possibly wouldn't require much to push him into doing something horrific.

"I'd put that away before you hurt yourself." The sarcastic feminine drawl from behind Scott caused the man with the goatee to scowl in irritation but he did put the blade back into his pocket. The effect it had on Scott though was tremendous. His heart leapt at the sound, and he had to fight to keep the hope from showing in his eyes as he knew it would raise suspicion.

There was the sound of movement behind Scott, the clicking of heels walking slowly across the polished concrete floor echoing around the large room. The figure stopped just behind the chair, and a gloved hand ran elegant metal claws down the side of his face where the knife had been moments before. "Besides, this pretty boy is mine, I saw him first. Go and find your own toy."

Richard scowled even more but retreated to where he had been sat with his friend, who had started concentrating on his cards in earnest to avoid the confrontation. Scott realised with surprise that they were scared of her, very scared if the blond's shaking hands were anything to go by. The woman now moved around in front of him and grasped his face with a clawed hand, pulling his chin up so that he couldn't avoid making eye contact.

Angel's eyes were even more beautiful than he remembered, shining out from the mask that covered most of her face. As he looked at her wondering what was happening, she gave him a slow wink without moving any other muscle. Then she released him and moved behind him again, her slow steps echoing once more before finally stilling. Scott surmised she must have a perch there, out of sight of himself and the other prisoners but from where she could see everything happening in the room. Knowing she was there he now felt no fear – it seemed strange, even to him, but by her presence he felt calmed and reassured. He trusted her completely.

They waited then, Scott didn't know what for. John and Brains continued to remain still, their heads dangling at strange angles from their seats where their torsos had been secured to the seatbacks. The two men continued to play cards to pass the time, although Richard occasionally sent a glance towards Scott filled with a strange fury at being denied his fun.

The waiting ended with a new arrival. A man swept into the room, of average height and build. He looked about fifty and his hair was dark with flecks of grey, and he had a neatly trimmed beard that held more grey still. He sat more comfortably in a suit than any of the men that had come to Tracy Industries earlier in the day, as though he lived in one. When he entered both the men stood up immediately and from the small sound of movement behind him Scott guessed that Angel had also got to her feet.

The new man walked until he stood in front of Scott, and looked closely at him. "Mr. Scott Tracy, I assume. It is a shame, I thought your father would come personally. Ah well, his eldest son will do for now. I require some information from you."

Scott just stared at him impassively, defying him to ask any questions. The man laughed, and beckoned at Richard who brought one of the plastic chairs over. Placing it so that he could sit facing Scott, the new arrival then pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply before addressing Scott again.

"It's OK Mr. Tracy, I don't expect you to answer my questions - at least not until you have had some persuasion. I will leave that to my associates though, they derive far more pleasure from it than I do." The man looked behind Scott now, presumably at Angel. Scott could barely refrain from shaking with fury as he considered the injuries that John had sustained at the hands of this man. He was under no illusion – this was almost certainly the man that had ordered John's kidnap and torture, and he was likely to do the same to him now.

The man could see the fury building in Scott. "Ha yes, I believe I've already met your brother." The man looked sideways at John, whose head was still lolling on his chest. "It's a shame he's asleep. We have so much catching up to do."

"What do you want from us? Didn't you already get what you needed?"

The man almost looked surprised that Scott had finally spoken to him. "Well, I thought that once we knew who you were, we would be able to find you easily. However, I was wrong. Jefferson Tracy is very good at hiding his tracks and hence your base. The only way to get the designs for your craft was to orchestrate this little rendezvous. Luckily I know a thing or two about engineering and so could provide an investment proposal that he wouldn't dismiss out of hand. I had hoped he would come himself, but I can adapt."

Scott did not like the grin that crept across the man's face as he said this. "Why do you want the designs on our craft?"

The man chuckled. "Money, what else? Have you any idea how much aircraft like yours could earn me? There are many people who would pay anything to get the designs, or even better a fully equipped model. If they got into a bidding war I would be made for life."

The henchman with a goatee, obviously not the leader that Scott had pegged him as, came up behind the grey haired man as he was speaking. "Ethan, can I take him now?"

The man glared at his subordinate, furious that his name had been given away. "I think not, you are too trigger happy and your methods would not get me any worthwhile information." 'Richard' slunk away scowling, shooting an angry glance at both Scott and Angel. Ethan looked up behind Scott's shoulder. "Will you do better?"

The heels clipped towards Scott again and the metal claws ran over his cheek. "Of course I will, he'll be desperate to tell me everything." She laughed, a laugh that Scott considered to have too much real amusement in it given their topic of discussion. Ethan just looked pleased.

"Get as much information as you can, I will send someone for you in a few hours. I need him back by the end of the night." Ethan then turned to the doorway. "You two, take him down to the basement and then leave him there with her. Do not untie him, is that clear? And Cat, don't do anything too obvious. I may need to take some pictures of him later to make my point."

Scott craned his head as much as possible to see the other two men from the earlier presentation enter the room. They came over to his chair, picked it up so that he was near enough horizontal and began to carry him out. He struggled slightly but it was no good, they held him tightly and carted him off. One saving grace was that Angel followed him out, he could hear her boots clicking along behind them even though he couldn't turn around enough to see her.

They took him into a stairwell and down into a basement area. They then carried him through a corridor, all the time with the sound of Angel's shoes following them along. Eventually they put him down in a small room facing away from the wall and left him alone with Angel.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

In the large, circular room John was slowly waking up. He stretched his neck to try to get rid of the stiffness, and grimaced at the pain in his head. He thought back to the last thing he remembered, seeing Brains slumped on the floor when he suddenly felt dizzy. He opened his eyes now, ignoring the glaring light that seemed to pierce everywhere and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Brains tied up next to him, still unconscious. The relief lasted only momentarily though, as he realised something was very wrong.

"Where's Scott? What have you done with my brother?!" He shouted loudly, but the man standing at the window looking out at the sea didn't move a muscle. "Hey!" John shouted again, anger and fear in his voice. Even staring at the man's back he knew immediately who he was, and it made his blood run cold at the memory of what he had endured at those hands. But his concern for his brother overrode that fear, and caused it to turn into anger instead.

Slowly the man turned around to look at him, with a hint of a grin on his face that almost turned the anger back into fear. "So John Tracy, we meet again. You were helpful last time, but not helpful enough. Perhaps I will get better results from your brother."

"Don't you dare hurt him!" John strained at his bonds, almost wild with the desperation he felt as he fought to be free.

"Oh, I won't hurt him. Personally. I have a very talented friend who is taking care of it right now. But there is something I would like to discuss with you."

For the first time John noticed that the man was turning something over in his hands, something that looked remarkably like his watch. His eyes widened in realisation, noticed by the man.

"Ah, I thought it wasn't a usual watch. Now, how do you call for help with it?" John sat, pressing his lips tightly together, telling his fury with his eyes but determined not to give anything else away. "Well never mind, I can ask your brother. I don't need it for a while anyway."

John couldn't help it, he had to find out what was happening. "What do you have planned?"

The man grinned again. "Only fools betray all their secrets, but it may loosen your tongue to know the immediate plan. My little kitten is downstairs, getting all the information I need from your brother on the whereabouts of your base. I can use one of these devices to lure one of your compatriots here with their beautiful machines. Then I can fire the many guns built secretly into this cliff to bring it down and retrieve it later to find out how it is built. What happens thereafter, I will leave to your imagination."

John tried to process what he had heard. He knew that if his father received a distress signal he would immediately send Virgil and Gordon with Thunderbird 2, and the idea that they could be shot down turned him cold. There was no way he could warn them, all he could do was hope that the man in front of him couldn't work the watch.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Angel waited until she heard the door shut behind her and the two men had left the small basement room. Once the echo of their footsteps had faded, she moved over to the small camera that peered out from one corner. She stretched to reach it, but could only just brush her fingers against the bottom edge of the lens housing. Trying again, this time she jumped and hooked her claws on the cables, slicing them easily in two.

She then approached Scott, touching his cheek gently with the palm of her gloved hand. She leant her body over him with her face impossibly close to his as she reached around behind his back, causing his heart to beat so loudly he was sure she would be able to hear it. One quick swipe and Angel sliced easily through the bonds that tied his hands behind the chair.

The second Scott was free he didn't think, he just swung his arms around and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips firmly against hers as he pulled her off balance into his lap. After a moment's hesitation she wrapped her arms around his head, returning his kiss with a passion that matched his own. When they finally came up for air, Scott tenderly touched her cheek with one hand, fingers sliding under the edge of her mask

"I thought I'd never see you again."

Scott could see sadness in Angel's large eyes that peered at him out of the mask and she dropped her gaze before she replied. "If I hadn't come, Ethan would still have taken this route but you would have been alone. I couldn't let that happen. Perhaps maybe with your help I will be able to avenge my mother."

Scott considered for a moment before nodded slowly. "What's the plan?" He didn't relinquish his hold, so she shifted around until she was more comfortably sitting on his lap.

"When Ethan gets tired of waiting, he'll send one of his lackeys down here to bring you upstairs again. We won't be able to leave until then, this door is latched from the outside. We should be able to take his sidekicks down quickly, there are only four of them and he has them patrolling the building to make sure no one gets to close. Ethan doesn't want them too involved in what he's planning because they'll demand a bigger cut. Once we've taken care of them we'll go back up to the room he's keeping your brothers in. He won't be expecting you to be free, or me to be helping you, so we'll try to take him by surprise. "

"Only one of them is my brother." When Angel gave him a confused look, he explained. "Brains isn't my brother. He's a brilliant engineer who lives on the Island with us." She still wore a confused expression and it dawned on him that she may not really know what an engineer was. "Never mind, so we go into the main room?"

"Yes. You'll have to pretend you're my prisoner, shuffle as though I've been hurting you. That should get us close enough to Ethan to strike. I'll take him, you go free your friends."

Scott nodded again, wishing it was as simple as she had made it out to be. "When will they come to get me?"

"It will be at least two hours, I've been telling Ethan I like to take my time, and he really wants this information about where your base is."

"What will he do to John and Brains?"

"Very little at the moment. He will want to be able to use them later, he's not foolish enough to let the others play before he's ready. He had already decided you would be the victim this time. If they wake up he'll mess with their heads, but he won't harm them. We just have to stay here in the meantime – if we make too much of a disturbance then Ethan may panic and do something drastic."

Scott thought for a moment before a slow grin started to spread over his face. "Well, if we have time to kill, why don't you untie my feet and we could put it to good use."

Angel looked startled for a moment, before a matching grin lit up what he could see of her face underneath the mask. "I have a better idea – why don't I leave you tied up and still put the time to good use?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Angel was crouched beside the sliding door that led into her room, in an attacking pose. Opposite her, standing the other side of the door Scott tried to do the same, causing her to giggle.

"Martial arts are not your strong point, I see."

Scott grumbled to himself. "I usually have a gun." He looked over at the woman, her black mask capturing all of the chestnut hair he knew cascaded to her shoulders, her expression wearing a slight frown as she concentrated. "What happens when we leave here?"

"We make our way through the corridors to the main switchboard, hit the fuse to lure out the rest of the bodyguards, then head up to the main room." Angel sounded confused, having gone through the plan about five minutes prior.

"Not here this room, here this facility. When, hopefully, we kick the arse of the bad guys and get rescued by International Rescue."

Angel's head snapped up, her eyes wary but she didn't speak.

"I'm not letting you go again. I just can't." Seeing her about to speak, he held up a hand again to stop her. "I know you can't come to our Island, I can see that now. But I can leave. They don't need me all the time, there are always more of us than actually go out on rescues and Tintin has been longing to get more involved." Angel didn't know who he was talking about, but she knew she couldn't let him do this.

"International Rescue is your life."

"Maybe. But you… you're a part of me. I can't live a life only half whole. I can't live without you. I love you."

This last statement rendered Angel speechless. No one had ever loved her before except for her mother and if she hadn't met Scott she wouldn't have known what it really meant to love. Her whole life had been built around work, vengeance and training. There was no time for caring at all, let alone anything more. For a moment she could dream that he would come away with her, share her life.

Suddenly her thoughts were disturbed by a noise outside the door, and both she and Scott turned their concentration to the task in hand. The door slid open and the man sporting the ugly earring came in, walking a few steps into the room before stopping and gaping at the empty chair. He was still gaping when Angel delivered a chop to the back of his neck, felling him in one. Scott dragged the unconscious man over to the centre of the room where they trussed him up tightly using the ropes that had previous bound Scott.

Before exiting the room Scott pulled Angel towards him, kissing her again. "I meant what I said." She nodded as he released her and they slipped together from the room in silence.


	20. Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight

Scott followed Angel as she crept through the dark corridors. It must be nearing midnight now and there was little light so he was following her closely, so close he could almost sense her which didn't help his concentration levels. She moved confidently and it crossed his mind that travelling in near complete darkness was probably part of her training. Scott tried to concentrate on what they were meant to be doing but her slender figure in her black, figure hugging suit took most of the rational thought straight from his mind. He zoned back in as she was signalling for him to stop. Pressing himself into the wall behind her, he soon caught the drift of voices that she'd heard moments before.

Crouching into the shadow of a doorway, he saw Angel doing the same thing. The light from a torch shone down the corridor, Scott had dismantled the lights earlier to allow them to move quickly through the maze of corridors looking for the henchmen. Scott looked over at Angel; he could see her eyes reflecting the torchlight and couldn't help think that in this guise she really did resemble the cat that she modelled it on. The talkers came closer, and Scott began to hear snippets of their conversation.

"Don't know what is taking him so long… boss said to hurry it up… Cat must be taking her time…"

Scott looked over at her and she caught his eye. He could almost sense what she wanted him to do and as the men passed he threw a right hook at the man closest to him, vaguely aware that Angel had sent a kick flying at the head of the other at the same time. His target reeled at the punch but didn't drop, so Scott grabbed the arm carrying the gun and twisted it mercilessly until the weapon fell on the floor before he delivered a left handed upper cut. The man reeled back straight into one of Angel's heels, which did drop him like a stone, and Scott swung another upper cut at the other man who was spinning his way. The second man fell heavily and sat in a daze in the centre of the corridor. Scott and Angel quickly tied the two men together, and Scott could see that the men were the heavy set blond and the one sporting a mustache.

"We work well together," he commented as he grabbed one of the fallen guns, and was rewarded by a fleeting smile caught in the torchlight. Leaving the men sat back to back in the centre of the dark corridor, they crept further into the building.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Jeff Tracy was woken from his sleep by a loud beeping. Initially he thought it was part of his dream, he'd been driving a car and surely that was the alarm, but then reality crept in and he sat bolt upright as he realised the beeping was coming from his alert on top of his bedside lamp. Throwing on a dressing gown he sprinted out of his room and into his office. When there, he saw that both John and Alan's portraits had their eyes flashing.

"What is it, Alan?" He asked, as his youngest son came into view from the space station.

"It's John's tracker dad, it's been activated. The watch tracker, not the edible one."

"Have you tried contacting him?"

"There's been no answer." Alan put the tracker location on the screen in place of John's portrait, and Jeff couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief.

"He's still in California and it's the middle of the night there so he's probably in bed and fast asleep. My guess is that he activated it by accident as we all have from time to time. Still, keep an eye on it Alan, if anything else happens then get in touch straight away."

"FAB, dad," Alan's portrait reverted to the photograph of him in uniform. With a small smile Jeff turned and went back to bed, while Alan monitored all the radio signals that he could from the Californian coast.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

With a loud hum, the lights flickered back into life. Scott and Angel crouched, trying to become accustomed to the light so they couldn't be caught off guard by anything coming at them. They slunk into the nearest room and slammed the door shut behind them, hearts racing and adrenaline running through their veins. Angel listened carefully at the door to see if she could hear footsteps in the corridor and didn't feel Scott tapping her gently on the shoulder at first. When she did turn around, she found him staring at several huge guns that were set up with their muzzles stuck through the walls of the room.

Scott went over for a closer look, and saw that the guns were actually pointing out of the cliff. There was a small gap between the gun barrel and the edge of the opening, peering out he could see the waves crashing over the rocks below. Above him he could just about make out the protruding circular room that he had been tied in earlier.

"What would they use these for?" Angel wondered aloud, running a hand along one of the control units.

"You could shoot anyone trying to get here across the ocean." Scott didn't want to think about why you would need that capability, in his mind he saw images of Thunderbirds crashing into the angry water. "It stops anyone from being able to rescue us, they'll just be shot down."

Angel could sense his concern, and placed one hand on his arm. "But it won't come to that. I'm here, and now we're down to two – Ethan and the creep. They are likely to both be upstairs. I think it's time."

Scott nodded but before he followed Angel out he trashed the control panels on the guns. "There, now they can't fire anyway." He slipped through the door she was holding open and they continued their progress through the building.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The lights flickered back on and Ethan could now turn his attention to the men sat in front of him. With annoyance he realised that the smaller one was still out cold, but at least the blond was awake. If looks could kill, John's expression would be sending daggers straight into the other man's heart. That appealed to Ethan, as he looked down at the watch he was holding. There was a small red light flicking on and off, Ethan assumed it was transmitting but there had been no sign of anyone yet.

The timing of the power cut was unfortunate, but with no alarm being raised throughout the building he assumed it was related to the age of the facility.

A noise from the door caused him to turn around to see his man slinking back in. "Well?"

"It was a fuse boss that tripped the whole building. It's fixed up now."

"Did you find any sign of them?" Richard shook his head and Ethan was beginning to get concerned. Cat should have brought the eldest Tracy back up by now and combined with the lighting failure it seemed too much of a coincidence. Still, she was always a little unpredictable but her results were always good. He looked again at the watch. "Where are the other watches?"

Richard picked the two watches belonging to Scott and Brains off the base of the large statue and brought them over to the waiting man. Ethan impatiently took them off him and pressed the same button as he had before, rewarded by two more flashing lights.

"Well if that doesn't get their attention, I don't know what will."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Jeff was woken for a second time by the alarm on his lamp. Grumbling, he threw the dressing gown on again.

"What is it Alan?"

"Both Scott and Brain's trackers are activated now too, dad. I think something is wrong."

Jeff was alert immediately. He pressed the button that called for Virgil and Gordon, sending them shuffling into the room. Virgil was wearing his striped pyjamas whereas Gordon was just wearing a pair of jogging bottoms. Both were yawning and rubbing their eyes in an effort to wake up.

"What is it, father?" Virgil's face was one of concern. "A rescue?"

"No son, the trackers for the other boys have been activated, they must be in some form of trouble. I need you to take Gordon and Thunderbird 2 over to investigate."

"F.A.B., father." The boys vanished into the wall connecting their living quarters to the large hangers for the Thunderbird craft, leaving Jeff and Alan alone in the room.

"If only we could send Thunderbird 1, it's going to take them almost an hour to get there in Thunderbird 2." Jeff muttered, "But only Scott, John and Alan are capable of piloting it confidently."

"What do you think can be the matter, father?"

"I don't know Alan, I just don't know."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ethan stood tapping his toes in the large room, waiting. All three watches had been active for almost half an hour now, but there was still no sign of any aircraft approaching. Worryingly there was still no sign of Cat with his other prisoner. There wasn't much he could do but wait though, toe still tapping impatiently.

The other henchman watched from the far side of the room whilst flicking his knife idly, the apprehension from his leader's mood catching and making him edgy. The two prisoners were still tied to their chairs and still in the same state as before. John had taken to staring at the floor, trying to think of a way out of their situation and ignoring the man leaning against the wall just behind him. The only sound echoing through the room was the snap of the knife as it open and shut.

Their peace was disturbed suddenly by the door opening and a woman in a back jumpsuit and a mask walking in, prodding Scott in front of her. John sat up straighter and watched his older brother, trying to determine what state he was in. Scott's hands were tied behind his back but his feet were free. He didn't look at John as he entered, instead he kept his eyes focused on the leader of the gang.

"Well finally," Ethan's eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you not to untie him."

Angel prodded Scott over to Ethan's position. "I couldn't carry him by myself, and your monkeys weren't going to help."

Ethan grunted in annoyance but seemed to accept that response. He studied Scott's face before giving him a quick backhand, sending the younger man sprawling across the floor.

What happened next took him completely by surprise. Snarling, Angel leapt at him with her claws out. Only his superior strength held her back as she tried to rake his face, anger glaring from her eyes and her lips curled back over her teeth as she fought him. The two fell as they grappled, Angel the superior fighter but Ethan much bigger and stronger.

The other criminal stared for a moment, stunned by what he'd just seen. Then he fluidly brought up the gun hanging from his shoulder and started firing towards the both of them. Freeing his hands from the loose ropes Scott dived behind the marble base of the statue as the shots rang, sending marble chips flying through the air but mercifully missing Angel. The window was not so lucky, the large panes of glass fracturing before they shattered into a thousand pieces sprayed all over the room and the air outside.

The gun stopped firing as the man tried to reload so Scott leant out and fired back, the small pistol he had taken off blond proving difficult to use as the shots missed by miles. The gang member took no chances, leaving his position and instead moved to use John as cover, hiding behind his chair as he fired back. Scott moved further away around the statue to avoid being hit – from his position hiding behind the chair the man was firing across the room, parallel to the windows and taking large chunks of marble out of the statue plinth that Scott was hiding behind. Luckily, he was now completely engrossed in Scott and didn't seem to realise he had a clear shot at the pair still grappling on the floor.

Unfortunately Scott now couldn't fire back in case he hit his brother, and so couldn't retaliate as shot after shot ricocheted off the marble, slowly eroding his shelter. In a pause in the bullets he looked again and readied himself for a dash towards the man, hoping to take him off guard.

He'd taken about three steps before John realised what he was doing, and suddenly shoved his chair backwards, hitting the criminal hard in the chest. The chair fell backwards with a bang causing John to collide forcefully with the floor, but his plan worked as the man was also knocked down. This gave Scott the time he needed to grab the dropped gun and train it on the other man. Keeping him covered, Scott moved over to John's chair and used a small knife to cut the bonds, freeing his brother who was still lying on the floor.

Between them the siblings tied the man up and moved him well away from Brains. Once finished John turned to his older brother and gave him a rib crushing hug.

"Thank goodness you're alright. What happened?"

Scott was about to answer when a gargling sound made him turn around. Angel had got the better of her fight and was now pinning Ethan to the ground with her hands around his neck, claws digging into his nape as her grip tightened. Ethan was going more and more purple, gasping for breath as Angel slowly throttled it out of him.

The anger and the hurt she had nourished for the last decade or more welled up inside her she stopped being aware of everything around her. All she knew is that this man had been the cause of all the pain she had been through since her mother had died and that thought strengthened her grip. She could finish this, here and now, and then she would be free. The fire raged and threatened to become an inferno inside of her. Ethan looked into his eyes and for the first time felt fear at the darkness he saw in them.

But then somebody said her name. Somebody pried her hands away from the dying man and spoke softly to her, holding her tightly as she struggled to get free.

"Angel, if you kill him you become as bad as he is. Don't let him do this to you, don't become a murderer for him."

She fought wildly, as wild as the cat she imitated, scratching and clawing to get away, to finish what she had started but the warm arms wouldn't leave her, the calm gentle voice wouldn't let her go. Eventually the strength left her punches and her fighting turned into sobbing, desperate sobbing created from years of loss.

John tied Ethan up in the seat that Brains had occupied, having cut the still unconscious engineer free. He then had no choice but to sit and watch the couple who were still huddled in the centre of the room, by the broken windows. The figure in black was sobbing hysterically and his brother was talking softly to her, stroking her head. Slowly Scott removed the black mask and John gasped in shock as he recognised the face underneath, with the shoulder length brown hair that fell loosely in waves as Scott tenderly stroked it. With a pang of realisation he knew Scott must have known all along about the woman in the woods, and had deliberately lied to him to cover it up. The instant anger he felt melted as he saw the expression on his brother's face as he held the woman that he loved, so full of sorrow but yet with a hint of hope underneath it all.

Eventually the sobbing reduced and Angel pulled away slightly from Scott. Her face was blotchy and puffy from where she had been crying, but Scott thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful. He leant forwards and kissed her tenderly, forgetting that his brother was sat in the room until he heard a small cough from behind. He spun to see John looking uncomfortably at the floor.

"What do you want to do with them?" John waved towards the chairs containing Ethan and his minion.

"We'll put them in the side room," Scott said as he got to his feet before looking at the woman still sat in front of him. "Are you ok for a minute?"

She nodded mutely and with some difficulty the two brothers moved the chairs into the side room, before ensuring the door was locked behind them.

"That will stop them going anywhere."

Scott returned to Angel, who was now standing looking out the broken window over the ocean, the wind taking her hair as she faced the dark sky. Now that there was no glass Scott could feel how strong it was, the wind whistled around the room and the waves crashed angrily beneath their feet.

John stood watching them, Scott's hands on her shoulders as she gazed over the ocean. He didn't know what to think. It was the first time that he could ever recall Scott lying to him and he knew that he should be furious. But when he watched them standing there, so close to each other, he just couldn't stay angry. They looked like they belonged together, but there was something in her expression that told John this was probably not going to end well. He shifted uncomfortably and turned away, feeling like he was intruding by watching them anymore. Instead he went to check on Brains who appeared to be fine except for being unconscious. John wasn't sure if that was related to the drugs or his alcohol intake the night before, although a loud snore suggested the latter. Sighing he turned his attention to the broken floor and away from the couple framed by the window.

Scott was content just to hold her as she stared out across the crashing waves. He knew that now she had finally fulfilled her promise to her mother, she would need to find something to fill her life. He couldn't help but hope that maybe that something would be him. Letting out a small sigh, his hands tightened on her shoulders and she turned her head to look at him.

"Scary, isn't it? What do you do when you finally complete your life's mission?"

"Get on with living it?" Scott suggested, turning her slightly so that she faced him. Angel's expression was troubled, and her eyes didn't meet his.

"I'm not sure I know how to. I've only had one purpose, one goal for so long and now I have nothing."

Scott tilted her chin so that her eyes couldn't avoid his, and he caught her with them, large blue orbs that seem to bore into her soul. "You have me. You have the rest of your life. Forever is going to start tonight."

Forever is going to start tonight. Angel smiled then, at the man that felt like her tether in the wind trying to rip her away. "It will take some adjusting…but I think I can live with that."

Scott looked into those brown eyes, and scooped her towards him in a tender kiss, one that promised of a lifetime together, his eyes closed as his lips touched hers, then as he pulled her into his embrace. He felt her warm, pressed against his skin and completing him in a way he hadn't realised he needed. He savoured the moment as he inhaled her scent, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

That was why he didn't see it happen.

Angel, looking over Scott's should into the room, saw it occur in almost slow motion as John watched helplessly from the side-lines where he was trying to wake Brains. The large statue, the bronze man watching over the sea, creaked as the marble base slowly gave way. After so many years of neglect the gunshots that ripped it apart finally caused the statue to break, the marble fractured and the large bronze man slowly toppled directly onto Angel and Scott.

Angel reacted without thinking, throwing Scott away from her and out of harm's way. He hit his head on the small guard rail that ran around the window and fell to the floor momentarily stunned. Angel used the reverse motion to leap back out of the way and so nearly succeeded, but the gesturing arm of the statue clipped her as she leapt and knocked her off-balance. Arms wind-milling she tried to keep to her feet but gravity eventually won and she fell, straight over the low rail and out of the open window.

John raced to the edge but there was nothing he could do. Scrambling over the statue, coughing as he tried to force his way through the dust created by the concrete floor to get to the window ledge, he hung out to see if he could see her. But there was nothing; no figure miraculously clinging to the bottom of the windowsill waiting to be lifted up, no white face bobbing around in the ocean, just the relentless crashing of the waves against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

A noise from the room caused him to turn around. Scott was sitting up, rubbing his head and looking at the devastation in front of him. "What…?" John scrambled back over the statue as an expression of horrified realisation crept across his brother's face.

"No!"

The cry was so raw that John stumbled and almost fell at the sound of it, but instead he was just in time to grab his brother as Scott tried to hurl himself over the edge after her. The older man fought in desperation, but John's strength belied his lithe figure and he managed to hold on. The fighting turned into shaking and John wrapped his arms around further, realising that Scott was going into shock. He then realised that his brother way saying something and he moved his head closer to hear.

"No no no no no no."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," John murmured, never letting him go, rocking him slightly as you might a baby. When his brother didn't stop John pulled back slightly and forced Scott to look into his eyes. "She's gone Scott. I'm so sorry, but she's gone."

John would never forget the look of utter devastation at his words, for the rest of his life that image would haunt him. It was gone in a moment, as something inside Scott seemed to just stop and his expression turned wooden. John pulled him close again, no longer sobbing but still shaking as the shock took over.

Then over the wind and the crashing waves there was an unmistakable sound, the sound of Thunderbird 2's engines roaring as International Rescue arrived.


	21. Angel

To their surprise a dishevelled John met Virgil and Gordon as soon as they stepped off the craft. He was covered in dust and debris and bleeding from a small cut on his temple, sustained when he had slammed the chair backwards and hit the floor. Along with the worried expression his appearance did nothing to calm his brothers' fears.

"Are you ok?" Virgil asked, concern in his voice mirroring his expression.

John touched his head gently, not even realising it was cut. Seeing blood on his hand he smiled ironically. "You should see the other guy."

"What's happened John? All your trackers going, then we turn up and you look like you've been in a fight and covered in dust - what's been going on?"

John sighed while shaking dust out his hair. "We were tricked and kidnapped, again. But this time Scott and I got free and we've managed to capture the people that did it. But Brains is still unconscious and Scott... isn't well."

This sparked several questions at once. "You were kidnapped?"

"Unconscious?!", "What's wrong with Scott?"

John silenced them with his hand. "We first need to call the police, get them to come and get the men we've captured. Then we need to load the others on to two and get home as soon as possible."

"The police, of course," Gordon cried as he grabbed his radio, and then hesitated with it halfway to his mouth. "What do I tell them?"

"Tell them the truth – that three men were captured by a criminal gang intent on luring International Rescue here; that they managed to overcome their kidnappers but took some injuries and now are going to be taken to hospital by you while the police get the perpetrators."

"Oh, right." Gordon got on the radio and repeated what John had told him almost verbatim. Meanwhile Virgil followed John into the building, gazing around him at the dust covered room and cracked floor. The large base of the statue hid Brains and Scott from view at the entrance, but the destroyed room was hard to miss.

"What happened here?" Virgil whispered as he looked at the destruction. John didn't reply, but instead led him around the base of the statue to where Brains was sitting up groggily now. "Brains! Are you ok?"

"I-I think so, Virgil. W-what happened? Why are you here?"

"We were drugged by the businessmen who came to do the pitch Brains, and you've been out of it. But the men are all restrained, Virgil's here to take you and Scott home."

"T-there were four of them – m-men in suits."

"Four!" Virgil turned to John. "How did you and Scott manage that?"

"I'm not entirely sure," John replied. "Two are tied up in that room over there, I don't know where the others are. And there were five in total."

"So three could still be at large?"

"No, they've been contained somewhere. Scott took care of them. Brains, why don't you go and find Gordon? He's just outside and will help you into Thunderbird 2."

John watched Brains stumble out of the room before turning to his brother again. "You'll need to help me with Scott, I want to get him into '2 before the police get here."

"What's wrong with him?" Virgil repeated, but John's only reply was to gesture towards the huddled form sat next to the statue.

Scott was sat clutching his knees to his chest, looking out over the ocean. He was silent and brooding, but his expression was completely blank. He didn't recognise Virgil's presence as his brother walked over, just kept staring into the distance. He almost seemed to have shrunk, his usual commanding posture completely gone and all that remained was a shell. Virgil had never seen him like this before, just so empty.

"Scott, Scottie can you hear me?" When he got no answer Virgil reached out to touch his brother's shoulder, causing Scott to flinch away but at last acknowledge him. "Come on Scott, you can't stay here. Let's get you home." Scott made no move to follow his brother, so John came over.

"Scott you need to get up." He indicated for Virgil to leave them, so the brunette went outside to get in touch with base and inform them about everything that had happened. Meanwhile, John crouched next to Scott and forced his brother to look him in the eye.

"Scott you have to go home now. Staying here won't bring her back, and we need to take Brains home to get checked over." John's plan worked, implying that Brains needed to be back at the Island to help recover broke into Scott's reverie and slowly the elder allowed him to help him up. Scott didn't lose the blank expression, but at least now he was moving.

Slowly the brothers moved out of the building, every step seeming to cause Scott more pain. Physically he appeared to be fine, but as John helped him into the large aircraft he suspected that the true damage would take far longer to heal than anyone else expected.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When the police arrived, Virgil and Gordon gave them the story of the kidnapping, explaining that the victims had been injured and were in their craft awaiting treatment. The police duly took statements from them and John who came to give a victim's account before hauling the men away in a secure van. On a search of the building the police had found all the other men, tied up in the corridors in the basement and all five were now facing a long jail sentence.

"Four of them are part of a gang we've been trying to track for a long time that are involved in arms smuggling," the police officer explained to John. "The other man could well be the head of the outfit, this lot don't have the brains between them to pull off some of the things they've done. We have enough to pin on them to keep them behind bars for a long time."

John thanked the police officer before reluctantly getting into Thunderbird 2 to return home. He didn't want to have to go back in there and see Scott again, not with the strange emptiness in his eyes. Virgil was busy taking control of the situation, directing the police and keeping base informed, something John was very thankful for. He knew that it should be him, as he was the second oldest and had witnessed everything first hand. But with Scott incapacitated Virgil had stepped up, citing John's traumatic experience as the reason. Whatever it was, John was relieved as Virgil was much better than him at this anyway. Being stuck up on '5 meant that he only got involved in a fraction of the rescues whereas Virgil was at nearly every one with his green juggernaut of an aircraft and therefore had much more experience.

Once inside the craft John hesitated briefly, before telling himself to man up and get down to the sickbay. Once there he sought out Gordon, busy running checks on Brains who looked much better. The pair smiled wanly at him as he approached, although Gordon's vanished quickly to be replaced with a worried frown.

"Is Brains okay" John asked, alarmed.

"Oh Brains is fine, you'll be pleased to hear," the redhead gave Brains a clap on the back that made him wince. "It's not Brains I'm worried about."

John followed Gordon's eyes into the corner of the sick bay where Scott was sat. He was sitting on the edge of a bunk, his elbows resting on his thighs with his hands clasped loosely between his knees. He sat leaning forwards with his head bowed, his eyes fixed on his hands and utterly still.

"Do you have any idea what's happened to him?" Gordon whispered, his mouth close to John's ear.

"Not all of it," John replied truthfully. "I can only guess, and none of it good. I think we need to get him home quickly."

Gordon nodded and indicated that John should sit with the two men while he ran to tell Virgil to get a move on. John hesitantly sat down, but was soon being quizzed by Brains about everything that happened while he was asleep. John answered as much as he could without discussing the strange woman and Scott's behaviour towards her. Throughout his explanation he kept flicking his eyes to Scott to see if the older man would respond to anything being said, but to no avail.

His story was interrupted by Gordon re-entering. "I'm happy to stay down here with them if you want to fly with Virgil up front?"

John nodded his silent agreement and went to join his brother in the cockpit. Virgil made an attempt to smile weakly at him before engaging the thrusters that would take them home.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The Island was tense. When Thunderbird 2 had returned everyone exploded with questions directed at the three men but Virgil had calmly and firmly put a stop to it, allowing Gordon to take Scott to his room and Brains to go to his lab for some peace. Again John was impressed by his younger brother's maturity – he had thought that Virgil was sometimes temperamental and moody but judging by his current behaviour he had underestimated the artist. As the thought crossed his mind, Virgil was escorting their father and Tintin towards the study, promising to fill them in on everything he knew. John felt put out for a moment, it was his story after all, but Virgil winked at him and John realised he was being given some peace of his own.

Berating himself for underestimating Virgil yet again, John went to find some much needed food, running into Kyrano in the kitchen. The elderly man was just putting together some trays of food for all three of them, and smiled up as John entered.

"You have saved me a trip, Mr. John."

John smiled at him. "You are a saviour, Kyrano. I'm so hungry I could eat an elephant. Brains is in his lab and I think Scott is in his room."

Kyrano nodded and placed on tray in front of John before leaving with the others. John began to eat hungrily and was almost halfway through his meal when Kyrano returned.

"Will that be sufficient, Mr. John? I do not think we have any elephants."

John put his forkful down and smiled as he reached for a glass of water. "This is just fine, Kyrano. Thank you."

"You're welcome," the man paused, and John sensed there was more that he wanted to say. He waited while Kyrano cleared up, knowing that he would talk when ready. Eventually his patience worked.

"Mr. Scott is not himself."

Looking at the kindly, knowing eyes John felt himself talking without thinking. "It was terrible Kyrano, I saw it happen. The moment he seemed to break inside. I realised they were close but when she fell, it was almost like a bit of him was lost with her." Realising what he said, his hand flew to his mouth. "I'm sorry, I wasn't going to mention anything. I don't think Scott wanted me to."

"Then I haven't heard anything." Kyrano returned to cleaning the worktops in the kitchen, pausing in the middle of one swipe to add "But if something was lost, then he may need help to find it again."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next few days dragged on. John was due to return to '5, but he seemed to be the only person who could get a response of any kind from Scott whose condition otherwise remained unchanged so his father insisted he remained on the Island. Both he and Brains had fully recovered from their ordeal, helped by the knowledge that the gang had been charged with their abduction and were due to go on trial.

Eventually John went to his father and asked to return to duty on '5.

Jeff Tracy poured himself a small glass of scotch before he answered. "I don't know, John. You're the only one who can get through to Scott at all, I don't know what else we can do." The strain was showing on the head of the family. He depended on Scott for a lot and to have lost his eldest son to this strange despair was almost more than he could handle. They all believed that the depression came from some form of torture during their ordeal and John hadn't felt it necessary to enlighten them further.

"I don't think there's anything else I can do for him either," John pointed out reasonably. "I just think he needs time now to put himself straight. Also, Alan's been up on '5 for longer than usual by now, it's about time he had a break from it."

Jeff finally agreed, but only on condition that John would return in four weeks exactly. Soon, John and Brains were launching through the roundhouse on the way to bring Alan home.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The four weeks while John was away didn't change much on the Islands. There were a couple of call outs, nothing too disastrous which was good given that Alan had taken over piloting Thunderbird 1. Scott was still sunk into depression, and nothing that his family did could break the through the shell of the man they knew and loved. John received reports on his condition but his brother never came to talk to him. From what John could gather, Scott wasn't really talking to anybody. And John heard a lot about it, from nearly every member of the extended family at some time or another. He even got a call from an agitated Lady Penelope, who had been trying to contact Scott but had no success and appeared to be very upset about it.

John had asked to return to the space station but when there he found himself unable to concentrate on his work like usual, he spent so much time worrying about his brother. He tried to piece together all the information he could glean about the girl and a suspicion began to form in his mind that she had been around for far longer than he had previously guessed. His thoughts could run away with him on the space station and it was a relief when Alan finally turned up to replace him.

Returning, John found the Island almost exactly as he left it. His father was showing signs of even more strain and the tension had rocketed up another notch. To escape, Tintin had gone to stay with Lady Penelope again and Gordon had taken some leave, and John couldn't say he blamed them. Scott still drifted ghostlike through their lives, no improvement whatsoever over the last few weeks. Everyone just waited and watched to see what would happen next.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A few days after he returned to the Island, John decided that enough was enough and that he would talk to his older brother regardless of whether he was prepared to listen or not. He searched for him in his room, but found it empty. Looking round the Island he couldn't find a trace of him, but then something made him check the observation deck.

Sure enough, when John climbed the last few steps to the platform he could make out the slight form leaning against the rail on the far side, gazing out across the Island at the Pacific in the distance. He was shocked by how thin Scott was, his normally muscular build had diminished in the last month and his face had a new gauntness that accentuated his delicate features more. John braced himself and walked over to the figure, rewarded when Scott turned his head to look at him.

"I'm not very good at lectures, but you need to hear me out." His older brother sighed and turned his gaze back to the ocean, which John interpreted as consent. In a way he was disappointed, he had expected to find this harder. He wondered briefly how often his family had just tried to talk to Scott about what he'd been through while John had been gone.

"I've never been in love, not properly, so I don't know about how much it hurts, but the way you've been ever since that day... it reminds me of dad, after mum died. I know you remember how withdrawn he was, no matter how young we were then. But he came out of it, he found a reason to. Now I don't know what was going on or who she was, but I reckon you loved her and I think now you need to find the reason to keep going. Let us be your reason, as we were for dad, let International Rescue give you a purpose.

"Dad came through it, and he and mum had been together years and had five children. I'm not saying that means that you should hurt less, more that if he managed it then you can too. You're both so alike and you still have that support there for you. And this time we're old and ugly enough to be able to understand better how to help." He paused then, unsure how to continue. "I... I know it's not okay, and I know it will never be okay, but you need to try anyway. She saved your life, so that you can live it." John saw a flash of comprehension in his brother's eyes, not a lot but enough to give him some hope. "That's better. I doubt she would want you to mope around like this."

"No, she would have wanted me to get revenge." Scott's words startled John, some of the first words he'd heard his brother speak freely for a long time. His voice was rough and rasped, as though he was out of practise.

"Well then, get revenge. Go and witness their trial. You never know, you may even find you get the closure you need."

Scott was silent again, but John had a suspicion that this time it was more due to him needing to think about the idea than the desperate pain that had been silencing him before. John thought that maybe, at last, Scott would start to heal. It wasn't much, but it was more than they'd been given so far. He turned to leave, stopping at the top of the stairway and turning once more towards his brother.

"She must have been one hell of a woman, Scotty. She managed to break your barriers, after all." He then descended, leaving Scott alone with his thoughts. He almost didn't hear the reply that floated down out of the night.

"Angel. Her name was Angel."

John paused in his descent, an ironic smile playing over his lips. "Figures."


	22. Epilogue

So this is Angel's story, and I've tried to tell it as well as I can. Some things I've had to guess, others she told me. But I had to tell it – no one else knows anything of her and no one will remember her when I am gone. I can't tell my family, it feels like doing so would break the spell, that if I keep it to myself maybe she will come back to me someday. Then at other times I realise how foolish it is, I know that she won't and maybe telling them will help to lift some of the darkness that has settled around me.

I can still hear her, words carried on her soft voice as she whispers to me for a final time, head next to mine, lips tickling my ear. Her voice is always so calm and professional, but sometimes with a trace of laughter or a hint of exasperation. I hear her in my dreams, haunting me with a ghost of her laugh, or a glimpse of her smile. When I wake, she is gone forever.

So this is the end of the story. Of her story. I could mention how I returned to the cliff as soon as I could, how I searched endlessly for her. I could tell of the men who were sentenced to a lifelong spell in prison, or how her body was never found, but to me that seems irrelevant. Her death is irrelevant, her life was everything that mattered. Her vibrancy, her joy, her pain.

My family noticed my withdrawn state – how could they do otherwise? A part of me had been ripped apart and thrown into the sea, and I could never be as I was before. They attributed it to pain, for some reason they thought that she had tortured me in that room and assumed that this had a profound effect on me. My father suggested counselling, but I declined. I could no more tell a stranger about her than I could my family. Only John knew, John who sometimes sees so much more than the rest of us, when he isn't watching stars of course.

After he spoke to me, I decided that I had to begin again. I wouldn't forget her, I couldn't even if I tried, but I could at least continue my work. After all, it all began with International Rescue. If she hadn't cared about it, she never would have spoken to me that first time, she never would have been close enough to me to risk everything to save me. If I gave it up now, then it all was for nothing. I could not have her life spent for nothing.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I went back to the cottage, once. I knew it was a mistake when I arrived along the small footpath where she had first led me to the door. The whole place reminded me of her with memories in every corner and I found myself just standing in the centre of the main room, unable to process the painful thoughts that I couldn't avoid. I don't know how long I was there, but eventually the neighbour from the village, Jane I think her name was, arrived to feed the chickens. Jane asked me if I knew where she was and I broke down. It was the first time I had cried for her, and all my grief poured out on this woman I barely knew, instead of the loving family that should have supported me. All the anguish, the pain and the hurt roared out in a single afternoon as once the floodgates were open they were impossible to close again. How could she leave me? She had an idea that she would, I know she did. She never had looked forward to our time together, she didn't even think of her life afterwards. It's almost as though she knew there would be no afterwards for her.

Jane grieved with me, and it gave me some comfort knowing that I was not the only one that would notice her passing. To me the world had stopped spinning, and that everyone just continued as though nothing had changed I couldn't understand. Why did they not realise that the shining star that gave my life purpose was gone? But Jane did understand, and that somehow made everything a little more bearable.

Eventually I left the cottage, agreeing with Jane that she would take care of everything, and move the hens down to her place. Leaving that last time felt like I was closing a chapter, like I was abandoning her. I couldn't go without taking something with me, so that she would be with me forever. I found one of her metal claws hidden in a dusty corner, and I threaded it on a leather strap and put it around my neck where it remains to this day. Then I left the small cottage tucked in the moorland valley for the second, and last, time.

As time passed, I slowly recovered. There were still times when it threatened to overwhelm me, like when I was helping Kyrano make lunch and I realised that I would never be able to show her that I finally learnt how to make omelettes. Kyrano just let me cry myself out, he never questions, just knows. He even told Gordon it was the onions that caused the red eyes.

Grief diminishes with time, and though it never heals it becomes more bearable. I had to live my life again, for my family and because I know she would want me to. But I will never be able to love again, not as I loved her. There will never be another Angel.

Scott Tracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve finally managed to port this story over to AO3! Thank you for following it, all those who have read it. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me any feedback or notes on it!
> 
> Parts 2 and 3 of the trilogy will come up at some point soon.


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